Bridges
by Penguin-sama
Summary: Set after Weiss but before Gluhen. After the disbanding of their team, two members meet up again to attempt to regain some of what they have lost. Contains yaoi.
1. Reunion

This fic is set in the time period between Weiss and Gluhen. I'm pretty much ignoring Side B and anything else there may be for this time period, for the pure and simple reason that it is nearly impossible to find any information whatsoever.

To paraphrase Omi in one of the English bloopers: Damn. If only I could read Japanese…

Warnings:

This will contain yaoi. There's lots of Weiss yaoi out there, so don't act all indignant and surprised. If you don't like it, then click the back button and leave me alone – and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

I have at least five fics I'm actively working on, either online or off, at any given time. Add to that school, work, my novels, and personal time and it means that it's hard to find the time to update. Sorry. I try to be a responsible author, but life gets in the way. Trust me, I wish it wasn't so.

I own nothing. There are a few OC who make an appearance for background noise, but I really can't say as I care about them.

(Z)

To be honest, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing there.

To be completely honest, he didn't want to be there at all.

Something deep inside Ran "Aya" Fujimiya had died long ago – the night his innocence had been ripped mercilessly from him by the murder of his parents and the near-fatal "accident" that had stolen away his beloved baby sister.

Old news. He had been suffering from that wound for more years than he would like to think about. He had almost grown accustomed to the pain.

Some days, the pain was his only companion.

Survivor's remorse – or so said the shrinks at Krittiker who had taken such pleasure from picking apart his already-fragile psyche. The thought tormented him day and night: why had _he_ been permitted to carry on, healthy and (moderately) whole, when his loved ones could not? An old question. Sorrow might have killed him had the pain not been so sharp that it kept him from seeking his eternal rest.

How could he close his eyes in that final sleep when the guilt was boring into his mind like some persistent parasite? He would never be able to sleep.

Pain had kept him alive.

Vengeance had given him a purpose.

But now what?

Now what?

After Taketori's death, his reason for existence had died as well…yet somehow he had continued on – a mere shell of a man who could not bring himself to abandon his helpless sister, nor to leave the team that looked to him for guidance. He had been dead for a very long time, but Weiss…

Weiss had nearly succeeded in returning his soul to his body. For a short time, he had been able to convince himself that he lived once more.

The elders of Esset had torn them apart. They had wanted to destroy the world and, in a way, they had succeeded.

At least for Aya.

The strange, small family his heart had reluctantly accepted was utterly destroyed. The boys couldn't bear to look at each other.

With his sister awake at last, the young warrior fled Japan. He could not face her with blood on his hands. He could not allow her to look at him and see a monster.

One of the dark beasts he had fought so hard to slay.

There was no difference.

It had been over two years now. The company that had hired him (a real job, not murder) had sent him back to Japan three days ago. They wanted the cooperation of a certain business in a project they were planning and thought Aya would be the perfect ambassador.

He had been able to think of no reason to tell them no that wouldn't expose those deep, personal wounds, and so he had agreed. In return, he was jovially slapped on the back, praised for his devotion and reliability.

Had he been a weaker man, he may have wept from despair.

His bosses knew next to nothing about Japan, of course. They chose the hotel they were putting him up in because they liked the name.

It was not a good hotel.

It was not a good area of town.

It was, however, far from the flowershop and most of his old haunts.

He was expected to live there for the entire duration of his "three to six month" stay. Aya would have found himself an apartment, or at least a better hotel, and paid the difference from his own pocket, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to make the effort. When he had been with Weiss, most of his pay had gone toward his sister's medical bills. He had grown used to living simply, and found frugality a difficult habit to break.

Anyway, he had few memories of the area around his current residence.

Business. There were three people he needed to persuade to lend their time and money to the proposed project before he could return to his small, now much-missed apartment in L.A.

Two of those people had decided to unceremoniously drag him off to a bar Friday night.

Aya found himself most reluctantly squeezed between the two of them in a booth, squinting in the light of the blinding strobe lights and fighting to be heard over the pounding music.

"I have to visit the restroom!" He shouted finally, excusing himself and gratefully slipping out of the overcrowded booth.

He felt better just getting away from his companions – the party scene certainly wasn't his thing. He thought for sure it would have been more bearable if the two had only left him alone and gone off to dance or something, but once they had discovered that he had no plans to join them they had promptly glued themselves to his side.

"We'll teach you to have a good time, Fujimiya-san!"

The bathroom was reasonably quiet and cool. At least it wasn't crowded. In fact, it was deserted. Aya grabbed a handful of paper towels, wet them, and pressed them to his face. He was definitely getting a headache.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he rose up from the sink and he couldn't help but stare at his surprising reflection. The man before him bore absolutely no resemblance to the boy who had left Japan two years ago.

Perhaps he had spent too many years as an assassin, changing his appearance like a chameleon in order to better survive a mission. Without really thinking about it, he had dressed for the club: black leather pants, violet silk shirt, black, silver-studded choker.

He hadn't cut his hair since leaving Japan and it hung, silky and fine, just past his shoulders. With the shirt his eyes were dark and luminous, his skin pale and perfect.

It was a painful sight.

Aya took a moment to glare at his reflection before hastily drying his face.

He had lingered as long as he dared. Much longer and his companions would begin to suspect something embarrassing.

Three steps out of the bathroom and some drunken fool slammed into him. A drink splashed across his shirt.

"I'm sorry!" Hands began to swipe at the spill. Aya quickly stepped back.

"It's nothing."

"I'm such an idiot. That's real silk, isn't it? Look, I'll pay for the shirt."

"_No_." Aya put more emphasis in his voice, finally looking up. "Really. It's noth…"

Eyes clashed. Brilliant violet into surprised green. Someone gasped, and Aya had the sinking suspicion that it had been him.

"Aya…"

He couldn't stop staring. He couldn't move. Those vibrant emerald eyes. The softly curling golden hair.

"Kudoh."

A hand closed around his arm and he allowed himself to be pulled back into the bathroom, too stunned to attempt to fight. Had Yohji been an enemy, Aya would be dead.

In the bright fluorescent lights of the bathroom, there was no chance that the sight of his former teammate was mere illusion. The man hadn't changed at all.

"Aya? _Aya_?"

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, focusing his attention on the blonde's concerned face.

"What?"

The playboy grinned.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"No." He stated slowly. "Sorry."

Abruptly he was being hugged, crushed against Yohji's strong chest, held tightly within the circle of his warm arms. For an instant his depression vanished. For a moment he felt as if he…was home.

Aya pushed violently away.

"Let me the fuck go."

Yohji laughed, that contagious, wild, confident laugh that was as golden as the rest of him.

"Same old Aya." He stated fondly. "Still a stubborn tight-ass, I see."

"Still an irresponsible jackass." Aya answered, fighting a smile.

They stared at each other a long moment, Yohji grinning like a maniac, Aya fighting not to.

"Man." Yohji breathed at last. "_Man_!"

"What?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe how happy I am to see you! So, what's going on? What have you been up to? Where you been?"

"Don't you have a party to be getting back to?"

"Not important."

For a moment, quick as a flash, Yohji Kudoh was completely serious. In that moment, Aya knew. He saw the darkness in his former teammate's eyes, the pain that stretched his face.

Aya hadn't been the only one to be hurt to have lost Weiss.

"How are you?" The redhead asked quietly, letting himself soften a little. He had never really gotten along with the playboy, but that didn't mean he didn't care. They were almost family, in the end.

Yohji shrugged, loosing a bit of his trademark confidence. "Took a while before they'd let me out of the hospital…still have a few problems sometimes."

"Problems? Like what?"

A small, humorless smile. "I had to quit smoking, for instance."

"Aa."

"You know…I always wanted to ask…why didn't you ever come see any of us? You were our leader, and we were hurt. Omi almost…"

"I couldn't."

"Yeah…it was hard. Especially…for thirty-two hours, we weren't sure if we were gonna loose Omi or not. Ken was a wreck, I wasn't much better. We _really_ needed you. You were the strongest."

"No I wasn't…"

"And you didn't even _tell_ us before you left!"

"I know." Aya dropped his eyes. Truthfully, he was ashamed of his behavior two years ago. He should have stayed to be there for his team. He was their leader.

He hadn't even known about Omi.

A hand touched his face, bringing his eyes back up to Yohji's.

"I really missed you." The blonde whispered.

Aya opened his mouth, but whatever he had been planning to say was lost as the door opened most unexpectedly.

Satoshi Morita was a large man in every aspect of the word. Tall, bulky, overweight. He always wore a smile and his face was always flushed. He was friendly and pleasant.

Aya didn't like him.

However, he was one of the three he had to schmooze.

"Here you are, Fujimiya!" He said, sounding all-too pleased. "We were getting worried about you!"

"I spilt something on my shirt." He answered shortly, snatching up some paper towels.

"Shirt's probably ruined." Yohji drawled, looking him leisurely up and down. "You should just take it off."

"Shut up, Kudoh."

Morita's smile didn't falter.

"You two ah…know each other?"

"You could say that." Yohji answered, tone suggestive.

Aya shot him a glare. "We are mere acquaintances." He informed Morita. "Let's go."

"Call me, Aya-kun!" Yohji called.

"Goodbye, Kudoh." He growled.

What he had really wanted to say was "go fuck yourself, Kudoh," but he was, technically, working. Couldn't use such vulgar language around someone he was trying to impress.

The redhead fought a smile.

(Z)

The task Aya's bosses had set for him was certainly not an easy one. Morita was not the only one whose presence he found abhorrent. In their own ways, the other two were just as bad.

Jiro Nakamura was the most important to impress, but Aya was lost as to how to go about doing it. Traditional to a fault, Nakamura did not want to do business with someone who looked as foreign as Aya Fujimiya, no matter how good his Japanese. He had been the one absent from the party at the bar.

Mei Teng, however, had been there. She was somewhere in her late thirties or early forties, but she dressed as if she was still a teenager – and sometimes acted like one, as well. She kept a very young, very attractive male secretary, and never missed the chance to flirt with anything male.

It seemed the Chinese woman had Aya as her next target. He put up with it in the hopes that she would be the first to agree to support his project and would help persuade the others.

So far – nothing.

She had shown up at his hotel room bright and early Saturday morning and announced that they were going to spend the day together working out business. They never actually got to the business part; the entire day had felt more like one of the few, rare dates Aya had been on back when he had still been Ran.

He hadn't said anything, though. In fact, he had ended up buying her dinner.

Well, al the very least he had been able to go home alone.

He opened the door feeling very tired, and walked into his room. Almost immediately he froze.

"Welcome home, dear."

Aya allowed the door to swing shut behind him.

"Kudoh."

The man on the sofa grinned, laying his arms across the back of the couch. "Isn't your line 'honey, I'm home'?"

Aya narrowed his eyes. "How did you find me?"

"Easy."

"Fine." He ceded. "How did you get in here."

"Aya! I'm insulted!"

He sighed, reluctantly admitting to himself that his question had, indeed, been a stupid one. Warily, he sat down in the chair opposite the couch and refused to take his eyes from the blonde.

"What do you want?"

It was Yohji's turn to sigh. "Your manners are atrocious – is this any way to greet an old friend? A good host would have at least offered me a drink."

"You broke into my hotel room." Aya stated slowly.

"Fine, fine. Be that way."

"Kudoh."

He stood swiftly, his grace astounding, and began to pace the small space.

"You wanna go somewhere?" He asked. "I feel all claustrophobic and stuff."

"Kudoh."

"What are you doing in a rathole like this, anyway?"

"Kudoh!"

He stopped, bowing his head. His golden hair fell down either side of his face like a curtain and obscuring him from view.

"I wanted to see you. Is that all right with you and the stick crammed up your ass? You better ask it, god knows it's been up there long enough to have developed its own personality."

"Sit down, Kudoh."

"Yohji." He corrected.

"Sit down, _Kudoh_."

Yohji glared for long enough that Aya thought he was going to try to argue. He was gearing himself for a knock-down, drag-out brawl when Yohji took the indicated seat, plopping back down onto the couch in a graceful sprawl.

"Look," the blonde said, voice more sincere than he'd ever heard it. "I know we didn't exactly always get along before, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you have to make everything difficult?"

Aya nodded once, sharply.

Yohji frowned, patience wearing thin. "How many times have we saved each other's asses?" He demanded. "There's no one I trust more than you. I like to think we're friends." He stopped as if expecting some kind of rude comment. Aya stayed silent.

"Things haven't been right since the team broke up." Yohji said finally, smiling humorlessly. "I need some of that back."

Aya felt his glare slowly melting away.

"I need it back, too." He said quietly, refusing to break eye contact.

"Okay." Yohji breathed. They stared at each other for a long moment, the silence that stretched between them the closest thing to friendly that Aya had ever shared with anyone other than his sister.

"So how do you propose we do this?" Aya asked quietly. "How do we get 'it' back?"

"Well," Yohji drawled slowly, thoughtfully, "We start by spending time together. Try to be friends. Since we don't live in the same house anymore, I would say that means that we should have dinner sometime."

He thought about it a moment, then decided it was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it had even the slightest chance of taking away some of the emptiness.

"Fine." He agreed. "When?"

"Friday. Seven."

Aya raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "That was quick."

"Fuck you." Yohji grinned.

(Z)

Thursday afternoon Yohji called his cellphone. He didn't bother asking how the blonde had gotten the number.

"What's up, hotpants?"

"Kudoh, I'm at work. What do you want?"

"Are you always this pissy, or does your cell just have an embarrassing ringtone? Strike that, I know you really _are_ this pissy. So, how's Bob?"

Aya knew asking was a mistake. Nevertheless…

"Who's Bob?" he sighed.

"That's the name I gave the stick that lives up your ass."

"Of course. Does this call have any pertinence to the real world whatsoever, or did you forget your meds?"

"Was that a joke?"

Silence.

"Aya?"

"…No."

A laugh. "Good. I wouldn't want you to risk injuring yourself."

Aya ran his hand through his hair, fighting the urge to smile.

"Get to the point, Kudoh."

There was still laughter in Yohji's warm, golden voice. "I just wanted to remind you about tomorrow night. We have plans."

"I remember."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure there's no way you can back out of it. Say you're sick, and I'll know you're lying."

"I'm not going to back out." Aya sighed. Truthfully, he was looking forward to seeing the man again. He knew better than to let the blonde get ahold of _that_ bit of information. "Goodbye."

"Wait! One more thing!"

"What, Kudoh?"

"Wear something sexy."

The line went dead before Aya could begin to yell. He hung up feeling a deep sense of dread, Yohji's words ringing in his ears.

What had he gotten himself into? If Yohji thought he was dragging him off to some club or party, he had another thing coming. What was he planning, really? Did he expect Aya to drink with him? Participate in whatever narcotics he was currently using? Proposition women?

Shuddering at the thought, the redhead began to contemplate faking his own death.

(Z)

Yohji hung up the phone, a wide grin spreading across his face. Teasing Aya was something he had always wanted to do but never even had the courage to try.

Aya would spend all day worrying now – it was almost too funny for words.

Whistling cheerfully to himself he went back to working, his day suddenly brighter.

(Z)

To be continued

You'll find out what Aya's new job is next chapter. Send all comments and questions my way – I live off reviews!


	2. A New Challenge

I'm American. Not only that, I'm from the South. (Yes, I can write. Yes, I **am** wearing shoes right now. Sorry to disapoint.) Anyway, that all probably bears some of the blame for this chapter. I'm certain there's some Southern influence in here somewhere. Oh well.

As for Aya's job, as you are sure to notice, I know nothing about his particular business. I don't really care. It was all probably subconsciouly inspired by Gravitation.

I really should be studying right now...Thanks to everyone who reviewed, please, do so again!

Standard disclaimers apply.

**Bridges**

Chapter 2

* * *

The closer it grew to the time Yohji was supposed to pick him up, the more deeply Aya was regretting ever agreeing to go. Never having been the social type, Aya found himself no longer feeling the pangs of loneliness and regret that had influenced him into making such a rash decision as to agree to go spend time with playboy Yohji Kudoh. He had seen and spoken to his old teammate already – wasn't that enough?

Yohji's final words to him the last time they spoke still bothered him. He actually forced himself to go shopping for something to wear.

At last he had chosen something he was almost comfortable with, but which he was reasonably certain would gain the approval of his companion. The black leather pants from the previous week – he had never expected to need to wear them again, but he had paid a lot of money for them so he might as well get some use out of them – along with a white shirt. The shirt was relatively simple: wide, long sleeves, nearly transparent materiel. It hit him nearly mid-thigh, and the front and the sleeves needed to be laced up in order to stay closed.

He looked pale and delicate – something he hated – with his hair spilling down over the white of the shirt in an uncomfortable parody of blood and his eyes so large and dark in a face much too pale. He found himself staring at the stranger in the mirror for a long time.

A knock came at the door, making him jump. He already had his glare all prepared as he yanked open the door.

Yohji grinned brazenly at him and Aya had to fight the urge to squirm as the other man's eyes roamed lazily over his form. Yohji flirted with anything that moved; it was nothing personal.

He was perfectly posed, forearm resting against the door frame, opposite fist resting on one slim hip. He wore skin-tight leather pants of red, so covered in zippers that Aya doubted any of the "pockets" were functional. He wouldn't have been surprised if unzipping them would reveal skin.

A black leather coat so long it nearly hit his ankles, also covered in zippers, and a green…tube top was the only word Aya could think of. Between shirt and pants, framed by the coat, the playboy's abdomen stretched muscular and golden.

His hair framed his face, soft and shining. His emerald eyes were lit bright with the promise of mischief.

Aya immediately turned and began walking away. Yohji caught his arm, laughing.

"What?"

"Go home, Yohji."

"What? Why?"

"You look like a porn star." He answered in clipped tones. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Yohji's laughter, warm and almost comforting, filled the small room. He pulled Aya back to the door, though he managed to do it carefully enough to avoid an ass-kicking.

"Will you relax? I'm not going to take you anywhere where you'll be uncomfortable."

"I seriously doubt that, Kudoh."

"Yohji. Please. It's not a difficult name to remember."

He intensified his glare a few degrees. "Just what were you planning for tonight, Kudoh?"

For a moment, the older man looked almost hurt. "I just want to hang out, Aya. Catch up on old times."

"I think your idea of 'hanging out' differs somewhat from my own."

A sudden grin. "Hell yeah it does." He finally released Aya's arm, grin slipping away. "No wild parties. I promise."

The smart thing would have been to shove the blonde back into the hallway, slam the door in his face, and forget that they had ever run into each other.

"Come on, Aya, I'll behave! I promise!"

"Damn you, Kudoh."

He laughed, knowing already that he had won. Reluctantly, Aya pushed past into the hall.

None of the other occupants of the hotel looked twice at them. Aya was deeply regretting his wardrobe choices. Walking next to Yohji, he felt like a whore.

Yohji's Seven was waiting out in the parking lot, so familiar it was painful.

"You still have that hideous thing." Aya commented dryly, ignoring the sudden and unexpected rush of emotions.

"Hideous? I'll have you know that chicks dig this thing."

He snorted. "If so, it's only because they think that anyone who would drive such a ridiculous thing must have a lot of money to make up for his lack of intelligence and style."

"Or be well-hung, right?"

"Unless he's compensating."

Yohji's laughter filled the still night and Aya realized with surprise that he had always liked the bright, comforting noise.

A flower was set on the passenger seat of the car. A single red carnation.

"What's this?" Aya demanded, staring down at it as if it was a poisonous snake.

"It's for you."

"Why?"

"Why so suspicious?"

Aya glared.

Shaking his head, Yohji slipped into the driver's seat. "Carnations symbolize friendship, right? It's like a peace offering."

"How long were you a florist?"

"I dunno. A few years, why?"

Reluctantly, Aya got into the car, holding the flower in his lap.

"Carnations do not stand for friendship."

"Oh. My mistake." Yohji started the car. His radio was too loud, blaring something obnoxious that should never have been referred to as "music." The air conditioning was on much too high.

"Where are you taking me?" Aya asked, buckling his seat belt as Yohji pulled out of the parking lot.

"Well, I figured you would stab me if I tried to take you to a club…"

"Correct."

"And I'm about ninety-five percent sure that anywhere you would pick on your own would be boring as hell, so I was thinking we could catch a movie, then go grab some coffee after. Sound all right to you?"

"I suppose." He ceded. "But none of those cheesy sex movies, understand?"

"Just ruin all my fun, why don't you?"

Unable to take the noise any longer, Aya reached out and turned off the radio. Silence filled the car.

"So, have you seen either of the others, then?" Yohji asked, voice loud in the sudden stillness.

"No." Aya hesitated. "Tell me about them." He requested finally.

* * *

After much debate, the two men agreed to seeing a romantic comedy neither was really interested in. Yohji's votes had been for a highly-publicized horror flick, while Aya had wanted the remake of a classical novel. The comedy had been their compromise.

"If I had known it was going to be in English, I think I would have attempted to push for the cartoon movie." Yohji griped, after, as they headed for the car.

"You speak English fluently, Kudoh."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't give me a headache." He complained. "Anyway, it was totally unrealistic. Real whores aren't that attractive."

Aya's lip quirked in (very slight) amusement as he slid into his seat. "You shouldn't talk about yourself that way."

"There! That was a joke! You can't deny it, I caught you this time!"

"You're delusional."

They sat in the car, silent, unmoving, the keys in the ignition but the engine left off. A street light offered dim illumination on the carnation sitting on the dash.

"The movie was cute." Aya said finally, wanting to fill the silence. "I enjoyed it more than I thought I would."

"Tell me something. Why are American movies so strange?"

Aya shrugged, not really caring. "You expect me to know everything?" He made the mistake of glancing at Yohji. His face was mostly obscured by shadows, but he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the man was staring at him.

A long-fingered hand reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, fingertips brushing his cheek.

"Kudoh?"

The hand drew back.

Yohji started the car.

* * *

The "coffee shop" Yohji took him to was more like an all-night truck stop. The décor was interesting enough: lace curtains, wooden signs with not-so clever catchphrases, porcelain figures of animals. The tables were covered in checkered tablecloths.

The place was nearly deserted. The few tired-looking patrons who had even bothered to grace the diner with their presences shot hostile looks to the two leather-clad young men in the doorway.

"Over here." Yohji instructed, a hand on Aya's shoulder as he steered him toward a booth in the corner.

"Where have you dragged me to?" He hissed as the blonde tried to force him to sit.

"What? It's not as bad as it looks. Asuka and I used to come here all the time." Yohji was getting good. He almost said her name without the customary flash of darkness in his eyes. "This place has the best coffee. And you won't believe the pie – it's heaven, I swear."

Reluctantly, Aya slid into the booth. Yohji slid in next to him, throwing his arm over the back of the seat.

"There aren't any menus?"

"Don't worry. I know what to order."

Aya wasn't certain he liked the idea of the other man ordering for him, but decided not to say anything, as he really didn't have the energy for an argument at the moment.

When the waitress came over, looking frazzled and tired, Yohji ordered two coffees and a slice of lemon pie.

"We can share," he said with a wink. "The servings are huge."

"Miss?" Ignoring his companion, Aya got the waitress's attention. "Make mine a tea, please. No sugar, no cream, no lemon."

* * *

The pie was reduced to a few crumbs on the plate between them, their cups held only the last dregs of their drinks, and Yohji had actually apologized for not knowing he didn't like coffee. Aya had merely shrugged.

"I didn't know what to do once it was over." Yohji was saying. "Just that I needed to make money. Krittiker wasn't going to support me anymore. Before I knew it, I was doing detective work again."

"Was it difficult?" Aya asked quietly, secretly amazed that the other man was willing to have this conversation.

Yohji shrugged, barely lifting his shoulders. "Not as bad as I expected it to be. What about you? What are you doing nowadays?"

Aya licked his fingertips and pressed them to the plate, coming away with crumbs. "Oddly enough, I work in the music business now. A recording company out of L.A." He answered reluctantly, licking his fingers clean. "One of the bosses knew my father…it wasn't difficult to find employment."

"You're right. That is odd." Yohji laughed. "What are you doing back in Japan, then?"

It was his turn to shrug, reaching for the plate again and licking his fingers clean of the crumbs. "The bosses think signing some Japanese talent would be a good idea. Like the next big thing or something."

"Who?"

"Aki Hirata."

Yohji whistled low under his breath. "Good luck with that; she's really hot right now."

"You don't have to tell me. I'm having a hell of a time with this whole thing."

Yohji caught his hand as he reached for the plate again. His expression, when Aya looked at him, was strange.

"Stop." He requested.

His eyes were too intense. A green that almost burned. Funny how Aya had never noticed before. Suddenly, he was very aware that Yohji's arm was still slung across the back of the seat, fingertips brushing his shoulder.

Yohji released him, reaching for his cup and peering inside. The moment was broken.

"You want another refill before we go?"

"No." Aya answered, unable to explain to himself why he was suddenly spooked.

They didn't speak again until Yohji pulled up in front of his hotel.

"This was fun." Yohji stated quietly, not looking at him. "Thanks for agreeing to come with me."

"You would have found a way to force me, anyway." Aya mumbled, reaching for the carnation on the dash.

"Well, thanks for not bringing Bob, anyway. I appreciate that."

Despite himself, Aya laughed. He got out of the car and leaned down, finding himself brave enough to smile a little at Yohji.

"If you were to ask me to do something like this again, I would agree."

Before Yohji could say anything, Aya had pushed back and made his way around the car. He went into the hotel without looking back.

He found some paper cups in the bathroom and filled one with water. He put the carnation inside and set it on the windowsill.

Florist's instinct.

* * *

Monday evening, Yohji called him at the hotel.

"This isn't too much of an invasion of your personal space, is it? Because I would hate to think that I'm interrupting your quality time with Bob."

"What do you want, Kudoh?"

"Well, I was looking at the paper, and it looks like they're showing another horrible foreign movie this Friday. I couldn't help but to think of you. So, what do you say? Do you think you can survive another night of acting like a normal human being?"

Aya ran a hand through his hair, realized he was smiling, and quickly schooled his face.

"I suppose." He answered reluctantly.

"You gonna dress sexy again?"

"Not on your life."

* * *

Friday evening arrived at the end of a week so trying it was almost painful. Aya had actually found himself looking forward to his plans and the surprising comfort of being in the company of someone who knew what he was and could accept it unflinchingly.

All of the progress Aya had thought he had been making at work seemed to have collapsed around him all in the course of that single week. Nakamura still refused to so much as speak to him and worse, seemed no longer able to see him. Teng, meanwhile, seemed to have redoubled her efforts at seducing Aya. She was growing so brazen that he would not be able to ignore it much longer. Soon Aya would have no choice but to either submit or turn her down.

He wasn't certain how that would affect his project.

By the time Yohji arrived, Aya was more than ready to go. He found that he was actually glad to see the other man.

Black leather pants that laced up the sides all the way up to his hips so that flashes of tanned leg were visible. Black combat boots underneath. A soft-looking red button-up with only two buttons clasped. Toned abs flashed under those buttons, strong chest above. He had pulled the front of his hair back, leaving his strong, handsome face clean.

He looked Aya up and down as he had the week before, grinning brazenly as he took in the faded blue jeans and blue sweater.

"Well, not the sex kitten look I was hoping for, but still sexy as hell."

Aya narrowed his eyes into a glare. "So glad to meet with your approval."

"I'll have an effect on your wardrobe yet."

The redhead brushed past him into the hall. "Let's hope not." He commented. "I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm even half the whore you are."

"But Aya! You'd make such a wonderful whore!"

"Fuck you, Kudoh."

"That's the spirit!"

* * *

Three weeks later. Friday night and out with Yohji once more. The blonde had been dominating all of his Fridays since the first; it was something Aya had nearly come to depend on. It was, he was fairly certain, all that was keeping him sane.

It was strange – and frightening, if he thought to much about it.

It was the same every week. A movie (usually foreign) at seven, then to the diner to share a slice of pie. He wondered if the predictability bored Yohji. He wondered if the blonde wouldn't rather be on a date.

He wondered how long until Yohji stopped calling.

Seven o'clock and they were not in the movies this night. The showing they had wanted to go to was sold out. Without a word between them to discuss it, they instead bought tickets to the nine o'clock showing.

"What'll we do until then?" Yohji asked, a fine twinge of suggestion in his tone like poison hidden in wine.

Aya hunched his shoulders against a sudden chill wind, unconsciously stepping closer to his companion. "Let's walk." He suggested quietly.

"For three hours?"

"we'll have dinner." He decided. He gripped a hand in the sleeve of Yohji's coat, pulling him along as he began to walk. The blonde's arm slid around Aya's shoulders, but the former assassin neither yelled nor moved away. He was cold, and Yohji was so very warm. "Is there anywhere that's good down here?"

Yohji was silent a long moment. His hip brushed Aya's as they walked.

"There's a pretty good Italian place about three streets over." He said finally. "They've got good bread. Do you like Italian?"

"Yes."

The wind picked up, sharp and bitter and cold. The weather channels were predicting snow. Aya moved closer to his former teammate's warmth, putting an arm around his waist to keep himself from stumbling as Yohji missed a step.

"Remember the Krause mission?" He asked quietly.

Yohji gave a laugh, short and sharp. "That motherfucking water was cold that night. You know, you never did thank me for saving your ass."

"You…saved _my_ ass?"

"Well, yeah."

"No you didn't."

"Yeah, I did. _You_ were shot in the leg. _You_ couldn't walk._ I_ dragged your ass out of there."

"And almost drowned. If anything, _I_ saved _you_."

"You almost froze to death." Yohji protested. "If I hadn't given you my coat…"

"You were in the hospital with pneumonia."

"And you were right there with me, buddy-boy."

They stopped, waiting for the cars to pass so they could cross the street. It was even colder when they weren't walking. Aya huddled closer. Silence stretched between them.

"Maybe we saved each other." Yohji murmured finally.

Aya snorted.

"You're so strange."

Their way cleared and they crossed the street, entering the small, dark restaurant moments later. The heat seemed to soak into Aya the moment they stepped inside. Warm at last, he stepped away from Yohji and shrugged off his coat, hanging it on a peg on the wall with several others.

A waitress approached. One look at Yohji and a wide, flirtatious smile spread across her lips.

"Just one tonight?"

"No, two."

Her eyes momentarily flickered to Aya. She didn't seem to care. That she had eyes only for Yohji was no real surprise; he was an astoundingly attractive man.

"Smoking or nonsmoking?"

"Smoking."

"Kudoh."

He glanced back at Aya and his grin was nearly sheepish. "Right, I forgot. Non, please."

She led them to a table in the back, bending a little more than was necessary to place the menus on the table.

"Let me know if I can get you anything." She purred.

They sat. She left. Aya stared at Yohji until the other man looked up.

"What?" He asked.

Aya shook his head, unsure of how to adequately state his surprise. "I've never seen you ignore the chance to flirt before."

"Huh? What are you talking about? I'm not that bad."

"I once saw you flirt with a goat."

"I was drunk!"

"Kudoh, you even flirt with _me_. It's like a disease with you."

Yohji finally looked away.

"She's not my type." He said finally. He was silent for a long while. "I guess you could say I've calmed down a little…I'm tired of the game. Fucking is just too easy – I need a new challenge. I…want someone…to love." He looked at Aya once more, eyes burning and intense.

Whatever he saw in the redhead's eyes wasn't what he was looking for. He glanced back down at his menu without another word.

Aya forced himself to speak.

"I'm proud of you, Yohji."

"What do you mean?" He mumbled, not looking up.

"For growing up."

Yohji hesitated. "Thanks." He mumbled finally. He cleared his throat as the silence between them became uncomfortable. "Do you know what you want yet?" Yohji asked.

"What made you decide it was time to settle down?"

Yohji's head shot up from the menu, eyes large and almost frightened. "What?"

"Was the question too personal? I'm sorry."

"No, I…I just…damn." He gave a half-laugh, still sounding somewhat nervous. "You just surprised me, that's all."

"Well?"

"Well…I don't know, really."

"You're lying."

The blonde shifted, turning his attention back to the menu as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

"There's this…person…I used to see a lot, but don't anymore. I never realized how important…this person…was to me until after it was all over. I'd really…really like another short to see if we could make something work."

"And if you can?" Aya questioned, interested. He didn't think he had ever seen the playboy so uncomfortable. "Could you really be faithful to one person alone?"

"For this one? Definitely." He breathed, suddenly intense. Passionate. "I could really love this person, if he's let me. If I had him, I would never want anyone else."

"Him?" Aya asked, taken aback.

Yohji froze. Slowly he turned his brilliant green eyes onto him.

"What?"

"This person is a man?"

There was something strange in his eyes.

"Does that disgust you?"

"No, it's just surprising. What about all those women you date?"

"What about them?" Yohji grinned. Suddenly he was himself again. What was going on with him? "Didn't you know? Yohji Kudoh, sex god extraordinaire, does not discriminate against sex, race, or religion?"

Aya raised his eyebrows. "You surprise me, Yohji."

For a moment, a happy surprise seemed to possess the blonde.

"Ditto." He said finally, voice strange.

"What's wrong with you?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing." He grinned.

* * *

To be continued.

Obviously, I know nothing about the music business, or any business in general. The whole thing with Aya's job may very well have been influenced by Gravitation, who knows?

Red Carnations – "My heart aches for you"

I lost the webpage where I got my print-out of the symmbolizm of flowers, so I can't cite it. If anyone knows where I might have gotten it from, let me know. I'm going to be using more from my list later…Yohji's idea of subtlety. Yeah.

Response to Reviews:

**Dark Avalon** - Shhh! If you let everyone know you've already read the first ten chapters of this, then...oop. Should have said that more quietly. See ya at the Ren Faire!

**meghan** - I'm trying my best to update with some regularity. Here's hoping I can keep it up. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy EO.

**Kat R. Fair** - Oooh, looks like you've caught on to Yohji's not-so-evil plan! I'm flattered you're reading this even though it's not your preffered couple. Hmmm...maybe we can lure you over to our side...(evil plotting)

**Blythe** - Fret not, Bob will be making many more appearances.

**yaoi-fan yokatta** - Hmm...interesting suggestions. Not sure I'll be able to fit most of those in, but they did leave me with some rather interesting mental images. As for Aya as uke...well, the boy does tend to take on a more submissive role sometimes...

**Vampire Louis** - Thank you so much for the compliments. I'll try my best to continue to hold your intrest!


	3. Living Arrangements

Wow, so much positive response to this! Thank you everyone for taking the time to read and let me know what you thought, it's meant more to me than you could know.

Bridges

Chapter 3

* * *

Outside the movie theatre, trying to wade through the crowd. It was impossibly busy by nine on a Friday night – it was a good thing they had already bought their tickets. Aya had to hold onto Yohji's hand to keep from being separated from the blonde.

"Sorry," Yohji offered sheepishly, grinning at him over his shoulder. "We should have done something else. I forgot what a zoo this place is on date night."

Truth be told, Aya wasn't bothered by the crowd. For a wonder, he was having a good time with Yohji.

Of course, to admit that would have been beyond stupid.

"Fujimiya-san! What a pleasant surprise!"

Aya lost his hold on Yohji as he turned to the sound of the familiar, slightly irritating voice. When he turned back for his former teammate, he could not find the man.

Mei Teng approached, trailing a boy that had to have still been in high school. Her skirt was so short she nearly flashed her undergarments with every step, and her low-cut shirt would have exposed an indecent amount of cleavage had she had any. Her eyes seemed to be literally caked in glittery shadow.

"Imagine seeing you here!" She gushed, pushing her companion's hands away as he attempted to put his arms around her. "Are you alone?" She asked, the finest hint of suggestion in her voice as she batted her eyelashes.

"I…"

"There you are, sweetheart!" Yohji was suddenly there at his side, Aya didn't move as the taller man wrapped his arms around his waist and nuzzled his neck. "I missed you." The blonde purred, long strands of hair slipping into Aya's collar and tickling the bare skin of his shoulder. "Didn't I tell you not to let us get separated?"

"Yohji…"

"Oh! I didn't know you found someone you knew! Hi, I'm Yohji." Grinning, he somehow managed to offer his hand to Mei Teng without releasing his hold on Aya. "I'm Aya's…special friend."

"Why, Fujimiya-san!" She gushed. "I didn't know you were _involved_!"

Everyone was staring at him. Aya realized that Yohji was giving him the chance he needed to get Mei Teng off his back without damaging business.

He leaned back against Yohji, surprised at how it felt to have his back pressed to the other man's strong chest, the blonde's arms tight around him, his breath on his neck. It felt…nice. Safe.

"I didn't want my personal life to interfere with business." He answered quietly, covering Yohji's hands with his own and attempting a smile. He shivered involuntarily at the feel of lips brushing the skin where neck met shoulder.

The Chinese woman laughed. "Why, you shouldn't have worried! I think it's sweet. It's obvious the way you two look at each other that you're deeply in love – and love is nothing to be ashamed of!"

Aya grunted, a noncommittal sound that the woman could take however she wished.

"What movie are you seeing?"

Yohji told her. A large smile spread across her overly made-up face. "Why, that's what _we're_ seeing!" She exclaimed. "We should all sit together!"

"That sounds great!" Yohji answered with a grin.

Aya caught his arm as he made to follow the couple into the theatre, smiling weakly at Teng and her boy-toy.

"We'll catch up with you."

"Ooh, are we gonna get it on in the bathroom _again_?"

Aya glared him to silence. He waited until the others were out of earshot before turning back to Yohji and was quite surprised when the blonde pressed close. Quite suddenly he found himself trapped between the larger man and the wall.

"She's watching." The former assassin explained, lips soft against Aya's jaw.

"We'll have to continue this farce all night now, thanks to you." He hissed.

"You don't want to? I thought you were tired of having her hitting on you."

"I think her believing that I'm with someone is the perfect solution." Aya answered truthfully. "I just want to make sure you understand what you've done. I want to make sure you're willing to continue to pretend to be my lover for the rest of the evening. If you'd rather not, we can stage a fight just as easily."

Yohji looked at him then, eyes dark and serious despite the grin on his face.

"I'm up for it if you are, Aya."

Aya nodded sharply. "All right then," He decided, "Let's go."

Yohji took his hand and kissed it, the softest brush of lips. Together they went to join Mei Teng and her toy.

* * *

The ride home was silent, although Aya had yet to decide if that silence was awkward or not. The night outside the car was dark and still, the streets nearly deserted. It felt as if he and his companion were alone in all the world.

A night spent as Yohji's lover. Well, pretending to be his lover, anyway. In either case, it was certainly a position he had never expected to find himself in.

Yohji had been attentive and considerate and, though he seemed to have forgotten the meaning of the term "personal space," Aya had quickly found that, a part of him at least, enjoyed the attention. As well he had enjoyed the way the eyes of the other movie patrons had followed him and the blonde, envious. For once in his life, Aya had known what it felt like to feel beautiful. For a few short hours, he had felt like something other than a freak. He had felt…important. Desirable.

It had been an uncomfortable, but extremely enjoyable experience.

He took a moment to briefly wonder if Yohji treated the women he dated the way he had treated Aya, or if the whole thing that merely been an act for the benefit of Mei Teng. He wasn't sure if the knowledge that it was an act, or the possibility that it had been a well-practiced routine bothered him more.

He quickly shut down that train of thought. They had snuggled in a darkened movie, nothing more. He had enjoyed himself, and he wouldn't allow himself to taint that enjoyment with his dark and suspicious thoughts. Yohji was so confident and bright and…fun. Aya didn't deserve it, but it had been nice to have that kind of attention focused on him for once.

"Didn't it ever affect you?" He asked suddenly, voice breaking the silence. Yohji actually gave a small, surprised jump and the car swerved a little. He stopped at a red light and chanced a glance at Aya.

"Didn't what affect me?"

"Looking gaijin." Aya found that he couldn't bear to look at his companion. Something, whether it was the soft fall of that gorgeous golden hair or the intensity of those brilliant green eyes, was making him very, very uncomfortable. Through the window he could see Yohji's reflection watching him as he stared straight ahead, but somehow that, at least, was bearable.

"You're too confident for it to have hurt you." He heard himself say in a quiet voice. "I suppose it's one of the reasons you and I have never gotten along. I was always so envious of how comfortable you are with yourself…I held it against you that you were what I could never be. I suppose I should apologize for that, at least."

"Confident? Aya…"

"The way you smile. The way you look. You wouldn't be able to do that, otherwise."

Yohji gave a small, bitter laugh. "Aya, no one sleeps around as much as I did because they feel good about themselves. No one puts that much harmful shit in their system because they're happy with who they are."

Aya shook his head, unable to accept that.

"You still aren't as damaged as I am."

The ghostly specter of Yohji in the window shook his head, smiling as if amused. The light turned green but the car did not move.

"Aya…"

"It's because you're so attractive. People generally act better toward beautiful people."

A hand reached out, fingertips brushed his face. Aya flinched away.

"I'm trying to get my life back on track, Aya, but that's only because I'm a stubborn son of a bitch who took twenty-three years to decide his life was worth living." The light became red once more. Out in the middle of the deserted street, surrounded by the heavy press of darkness, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. "That's it though, Aya. Other than the fact I've started to care about my life, you and I are the same."

Yohji's reflection turned, and Aya knew the other man was watching the road once more.

"Anyway, if anyone's beautiful, it's you."

Aya snorted. "Looks like those drugs fucked up your mind after all." He grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms.

The light turned green and the car took off, Yohji's bright, warm laughter filling the small space.

Aya's dark mood lightened somewhat by the time they reached the hotel. Yohji's laughter had that effect on him.

"Seriously, Aya. You need to get an apartment." Yohji was saying lightly. "I'll help you move. If you're going to be here a while, there's no reason for you to be uncomfortable. Other than pure, stubborn masochism, that is."

"Apartments are expensive." Aya stated, finding that he did not want to get out of the car.

"What else are you going to do with all that money I know you've got squirreled away?" Yohji asked with his own strange brand of wisdom. "What use is money if you don't spend it? What are you working for if you don't plan on spending your earnings?"

The truth was, horrifyingly enough, that he didn't know. He had considered sending money to his sister, but wanted to avoid it unless she needed it. He didn't kill anymore, but he still felt as if any money in his possession was somehow tainted.

"I'll…think about it." He answered grudgingly.

"Not good enough. Next weekend."

"Kudoh…"

"There's an apartment in my building up for rent. I can make sure you get it, and then help you move in. Piece of cake."

"I don't even have any furniture, Kudoh."

"We'll buy some. Come on, I'll take you to yard sales. You like having a good time. Come on, Aya!"

He hesitated, but Yohji Kudoh had always been a difficult man to argue with.

"You'll take care of the legwork for me?"

"You can trust me."

Aya gave a sharp nod and forced himself to get out of the car. Somehow, doing so made him feel very cold. Wrong, somehow. As if he should have been going with his former teammate.

"Next weekend, then?"

Another nod. "But I want you to call me before you do anything final." He said sharply. "I want to see this place before I let you tie me to it."

"I have your number." The playboy winked.

Aya hesitated.

"Thank you for tonight, Kudoh." He finally said, voice quiet. "I appreciate your helping me out."

"Don't you know that I'd do anything for you?" He asked with a sincerity that made Aya uneasy. He stepped away from the car, muttered a quiet 'goodnight,' and watched Yohji drive away.

* * *

Monday morning, Yohji called.

"That was fast." Aya murmured ruefully.

"You want the apartment or not?"

"Do you honestly want me to answer that?"

Yohji's laughter filled the line, warm and bright and golden. Aya felt something stir deep within him in response – something that felt suspiciously like happiness.

"Can you have lunch with me today?"

"When?"

"Right now?"

Aya glanced down at his lunch. "If it's somewhere nearby." He agreed reluctantly.

"You need to see the place, right?"

"…yes." He agreed grudgingly. ""All right, I'll be there. Where do you want me to meet you?"

Less than five minutes later, Aya had shrugged on his coat and was standing outside flagging down a taxi. Yohji wanted him to first meet him at the apartment to look at the place, then they would do to lunch afterwards.

Aya had never been to Yohji's place of residence before. It was a little closer to the old flowershop than Aya would normally be comfortable with, and much too large and new.

It was going to be expensive.

Yohji stood outside the apartment complex waiting for him. Tight faded blue jeans, oversized green sweater, hair pulled back into a ponytail, dark glasses over his eyes. Typical, Yohji. He didn't even have to try to make himself look good.

Aya's heart did a strange thing at the sight of him, speeding up. He found he had to fight the urge to smile.

He did _not_ want to think about how the sight of the man had suddenly brightened his day. Aside from his sister Aya had not had any friends in all his life. It was an interesting experience.

"Nice suit." Yohji greeted as he approached, snorting in amusement.

"Bite me, Kudoh."

"Where?" He asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

The man beside him cleared his throat, fighting a smile. Aya hadn't even noticed him there before. The man was tall, attractive in a traditional sense. Sleek black hair only long enough to fall into large, dark eyes. Pretty face, healthy tan, broad shoulders, and a trim figure.

"You must be Fujimiya-san." The man greeted with an open, friendly smile. "Yohji-kun's told me good things about you."

"He must have been lying, then."

Yohji laughed, throwing an arm around Aya's shoulders. "Is he not as pretty as I told you?" He asked lightly.

"Prettier." He smiled into Aya's eyes and the redhead had to fight the urge to squirm. Something about the man made him uneasy. He decided that he didn't like him.

"Aya, this is Taro Noda. He's an old friend of mine."

"My family owns the building." Noda smiled, holding out his hand to shake. Aya forced himself to comply, although truthfully he had no desire to touch the other man. "I'm being trained to take over ownership in a year or two." He explained. His grip was not firm enough and he shook too vigorously. Aya drew back his hand a little more quickly than was polite.

"Yohji tells me that you're interested in the apartment I have up for rent."

The redhead grunted noncommittally and Noda laughed.

"Oh, I like him." He informed Yohji.

"I do, too." The blonde grinned.

The other man fished a key from his pocket. "Shall we take a look at the place, then?"

Aya glared.

"You go on ahead, Taro." Yohji offered, squeezing Aya around the shoulders. "We'll meet you up there." He waited until the other man left before turning to face Aya. "All right, spill it. What's wrong?"

His hand was still on Aya's shoulder. The redhead shrugged grumpily away from the touch.

"How do you two know each other?" He asked sharply.

"Taro and I? We go way back."

"How far back?"

"What's wrong, Aya?"

He looked away. Whatever good mood seeing Yohji had put him in was certainly ruined by now. Stolen away.

"I don't like that guy." He answered finally.

Yohji laughed. For once, the sound did nothing to lighten Aya's mood.

"You probably feel uncomfortable because he's gay – and you happen to be just his type."

Aya felt his jaw drop – which made Yohji laugh all the harder. Throwing an arm around his shoulders, the blonde cheerfully led him into the building.

"Taro's all right, Aya. He and I used to date. Actually, he's the first guy I ever went out with. Don't let him bother you."

"Are you…are you trying to set me up?"

"No!" Yohji faltered, his teasing cheer momentarily slipping away. He replaced it quickly, but somehow it seemed less real. "Unless you're interested?" He asked uncertainly.

Aya shook his head firmly.

"Good." Yohji breathed."

"You sound relieved. I thought you said he was a good guy."

Yohji stopped, turning to face him once more. He was very serious now, no trace of a smile on his face.

"Taro's one of the best men I've ever met." He assured him solemnly. "He's generous, kind, attractive…he's damn near perfect, to tell you the truth. I couldn't think of anyone better for you, if that's what you want."

"Yet the knowledge that I'm not interested brings you relief." Aya mused, staring suspiciously at him. "Do you have feelings for him, then?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"

* * *

The apartment was on the fifth floor – located directly below Yohji's. It was very large, and so nice that it only took one look for Aya to know that it would cost him more money than he was willing to spend.

A large, bright living area, complete with balcony. A sunny kitchen with plenty of room. One bedroom, large enough to fit a king sized bed and still have room left over. The tub in the bathroom could have fit three people.

"The last occupant is moving to Europe and would prefer not to have to ship her furniture. She's willing to sell it for a pretty good price." Noda was saying.

"Damn, this place is much nicer than mine." Yohji observed, standing neat the balcony with his hands in his pockets.

"Take your time looking around." Taro smiled.

Aya moved toward Yohji, pretending to be taking in the view.

"What do you think?" The blonde asked quietly.

"It's expensive."

"It's only a few months. And it's a hell of a lot better than that hotel room."

"Yohji…"

"You know you want it."

Aya sighed.

* * *

He signed the contract, sitting at an outdoor table at a little café, the sun in his eyes giving him a headache. He warned Noda that he probably wouldn't be staying for more than half a year, and agreed to buy whatever furniture the former tenant wished to sell.

"Now, as long was you run everything by me first, you can feel free to paint any of the rooms, even change the flooring if you want to." Noda smiled, getting the papers in order and slipping them into a folder.

"We'll have to repaint the bedroom for sure." Yohji laughed, tucking his hands behind his head. "Can you imagine Aya sleeping in a pink room? And the kitchen is just a little too _grandma_ for me. What do you think?"

"Don't care." Aya grunted. "Do whatever you want."

Noda checked his watch and the smile left his face. "I'm afraid I have an appointment which I must be getting to." He said apologetically, as if he truly regretted leaving them. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Fujimiya-san. Yohji? I expect to be invited to your next party."

"I don't party anymore, Taro." Yohji said, tone implying that these were words he repeated often. Aya wondered how much his former teammate missed the wildness of his old lifestyle – and how much he regretted the medical conditions which had caused him to give it up.

Surely spending his weekends with Aya was boring as hell for the playboy.

"Can I give you a ride?" Noda offered, looking at Aya.

"I'm taking him back to his office." Yohji said quickly. "Just as soon as he finishes eating. He's getting too skinny – it's not good for him."

"You're his caretaker now?" Noda asked, eyes cool.

"Yeah." Yohji answered with a glare. "I am."

Aya waited until Noda had left before kicking his companion under the table.

* * *

"Bright and early Saturday morning." Yohji was saying cheerfully as he pulled up in front of Aya's office. "We'll do breakfast, then go looking for the paint for your new bedroom."

"Stupid to be spending so much money on a place I'll only be in for a few months." He grunted.

"Aya, for once in your life, would you just unclench and let yourself be comfortable?" He sighed. "Leave Bob at the hotel. Let fun Aya live in the apartment."

"Fun Aya does not exist." He stated stonily. He found that he did not want to get out of the car, did not want to leave the presence of Yohji, who made him feel so comfortable.

Aya got out of the car.

"Saturday morning." He agreed reluctantly.

"Fujimiya-san! Yoohoo!"

He turned. Mei Teng was leaving her office, her secretary on her arm.

"Just coming back from lunch? Why, that explains why I couldn't find you! And Kudoh-san is with you – how splendid!" She gushed. "Listen you two, make sure you clear your calendars for Wednesday night of next week."

"What happens Wednesday?" Yohji asked pleasantly, sliding his sunglasses down over his eyes.

"Big business dinner – black suit. Dates are required."

"I…"

"I will be very upset if you two aren't there, understand?" She demanded with mock severity. A bright smile spread itself across her face as they both nodded helplessly. "Great!" She exclaimed. "See you then!" Humming cheerfully, she and her toy strolled off.

* * *

To Be continued. Thanks for reading, everyone, see you next time!

**Response to reviews:**

**Moon without a Sun** - hope you enjoy!

**moimoi-chan**- wow, thanks. Hope I continue to hold your interest!

**bewsbud -** snort that's one of my favorite parts, too...Yotan just couldn't resist making that comment...

**meghan - **looks like you may have caught on to my evil plot...)

Thanks again!Keep reviewing, please! It makes me so happy...(Does the happy dance. Frightens several people. Stops.) Eh heh...


	4. Let's Pretend

Ah! _Changing Circumstances_ seems to be running my life all the sudden! I'm so re-obsessed all the sudden that I can't believe it. Nevertheless, I by no means have any plans to abandon my other works. Out of them all, I would say _Eternal One_ is my favorite, but it doesn't get as much response. That makes me really sad, but I'll give the others priority anyway. When I have the time I'll write a RuroKen straight fic to pull in more people, but right now I'm about at my limit.

Thanks to everyone for the support. I really like _Bridges_ and I'm glad it seems to have found a few fans. I hope you all stick with me!

Warnings: I own nothing. Shounen-ai for the moment. Language.

* * *

Aya did not often allow himself the luxury of laughter. There were many days which passed in which he did not relax even once, not even when sleeping. Even before his sister's "accident" he had found it difficult to, as Yohji put it, "unclench."

Relaxing involved a certain degree of trust which he simply did not have. Aya-chan had been the only one with the ability to bring him out of his shell. Aya-chan, and now, apparently, Yohji.

Covered in dried paint, ribs sore from laughter, Aya lay sprawled across his new used couch, hip flush with Yohji's, the other man's arm around his shoulders and his long hair tickling his arm where the blonde had rested his head near Aya's shoulder.

He was glad he had agreed to the apartment.

* * *

Evening. They had finally finished the bedroom, each wearing more paint than the walls. They had ordered takeout and were sitting together at the table in a comfortable silence when the phone began to ring.

Aya liked his new kitchen; he had already decided that it was his favorite room. During the day, it was filled with sunshine. As the sun began to set it became…cozy.

The walls were a medium shade of blue, the cabinets and trim white, the floor black tile. The slightly worn table and set of four chairs were white to match. Yohji had bought him a rug as a housewarming present and they had put it under the table. Somehow the room was thus transformed. That section of the apartment, at least, felt like home.

Aya's cell was sitting next to Yohji's on the counter when it began to ring. Yohji leaned his chair back on two legs, stretched out his arm, and grabbed it before Aya could rise.

"Aya's phone." He drawled lazily. "This is Yohji, his incredibly sexy and unbelievably willing boy-toy love slave secretary. How can we be servicing you?" He listened a few moments, a strange expression on his face. "Yeah, he's right here." He answered finally, lip twitching.

Aya only stared at him as he held out the phone.

"Who is it?"

"Don't be rude, now." The blonde teased.

Warily, Aya accepted the phone.

"Hello?"

"Fujimiya-san, I am so sorry to be interrupting your evening!" The voice of Mei Teng exclaimed. Aya winced visibly, glaring at his now silently-laughing friend. "If I had known you had something planned with Kudoh-san, I never would have called!"

"It's fine." He assured her, voice barely polite. "He was just about to leave, anyway."

Yohji smirked leisurely, sticking his tongue out at him.

"Well, listen, I won't keep you long – I just wanted to know if you had plans for tomorrow."

"…Why?"

"I know it's short notice, but an old friend of mine from college is coming in tomorrow night and I don't want to give him the wrong idea. Do you think you and Kudoh-san could double with us?"

He didn't answer.

"Aya-kun, please?" She asked in a babyish voice. "I would be forever grateful! And we can discuss the dinner Wednesday night."

"What does she want?" Yohji whispered.

Aya narrowed his eyes and smiled evilly.

"We'll be there." He promised.

* * *

By the time Yohji came to his door the next night, Aya was very much regretting his rash decision. Not only did Yohji seem to not mind playing his lover for yet another night, but he seemed to actually _enjoy_ the act.

He showed up at Aya's door in a pair of well-fitted black dress slacks and a button down top that shimmered from blue to green. Only three of the buttons were clasped, but he appeared far less slutty than usual for certain. He had tied back the front of his hair, left his sunglasses at home, and arrived with a bouquet of blue and white violets.

Aya leaned against the open door, unwilling to let Yohji in, unwilling to accept the flowers. He felt rather common and frumpy in the presence of the golden god before him.

"You don't have to start pretending so soon, Kudoh." He stated, oddly depressed all the sudden.

"Just getting into character." Grinning, he held out the flowers. "To friendship."

Aya shook his head, but accepted the offer. "Violets don't stand for friendship, either." He stated, retreating into the apartment to put them in water. No need to mention that he still had the carnation Yohji had given him the first night they had gone out. He had pressed it into a book when it had begun to fade, and carefully hadn't thought about his reluctance to throw it away.

He did not yet have any dishes, much less vases, so he stoppered the sink, filled it with a little water, and placed the violets inside.

When he turned from his task, he found Yohji standing right there, much too close and definitely invading his personal space.

The other man's eyes were dark and strange as he gazed down at him, slowly lifting a golden hand to gently brush hair out of Aya's eyes.

"You look really beautiful tonight, Aya." He stated quietly.

The redhead pushed him away and stepped quickly past.

"Save it for when we have an audience."

* * *

Yohji grinned to himself as he slipped a hand under the table and laid it to rest against Aya's thigh, watching as the younger man gave a small, involuntary jump.

It was just too much. Too amusing, too alluring, too perfect.

Mei Teng was beginning to be one of his favorite people in the world.

Certainly she was annoying as hell chattering on about some foolish nonsense not even her date seemed to find interesting, but were it not for her, they would not be there at that very moment. He probably wouldn't have even seen Aya tonight.

Yohji began to slide his hand up the other man's leg, slowly enough that the redhead wouldn't notice until he was being fully groped right in the middle of the restaurant.

Weiss' former leader truly did look beautiful. He was, of course, always beautiful. Yohji had thought so since the day they met.

But that didn't mean he ever got tired of looking at him.

Soft, dark khakis that fit in such a way as to perfectly show off his ass. Oversized blue sweater that set off the bluer tones of his eyes. Hair a crimson halo around that perfect, pale face. He had certainly attracted stares since they had entered the restaurant – and the most enticing thing about it was that he didn't even seem to notice the attention.

But that was Aya. Completely desirable. Completely unattainable.

Completely oblivious.

Yohji inched his hand further up the other man's thigh, trying to contain his glee that he had not yet been caught. Aya was the ultimate prize – a prize he had planned to claim since the night at the club and Mei Teng, bless her insensible soul, was making his task so deliciously easy.

There had been a time, not too long ago, when Yohji would have thrown all of himself into the endeavor. Doing so, he would have managed to get Aya into his bed within a mere matter of hours. Love him and leave him, quick and easy. Of course, Yohji probably wouldn't have survived the attempt.

But what he had told the redhead was true. Fucking was too easy; he wanted, _needed_, a new challenge.

He wanted someone to love.

He wondered at how his karma could possibly be good enough that, when he at last decided it was time to settle down, not only did his longtime impossible fantasy walk back into his life, but it was an Aya much changed. An Aya more beautiful than ever, yet less likely to kill him for trying something.

Aya jumped as he realized quite suddenly that Yohji's fingertips were brushing his groin. He sat up very straight, and carefully did not move.

Mei Teng continued to chatter on.

Yohji slid his hand further into Aya's lap and leaned in close to him, breathing gently against his skin and nearly crowing with pleasure as the smaller man shivered. He leaned in closer, carefully drawing the tender skin of Aya's earlobe into his mouth and nibbling a moment before lightly kissing the skin just under his ear.

When he drew away he realized that Mei Teng had at last fallen silent and was watching them, chewing on a thumbnail.

"Hot." She breathed finally.

Aya stood quickly, jostling the table and nearly toppling his seat. His face was red, his hands trembling.

"E…excuse me." He stammered shakily. He fled, making a quick escape to the restrooms.

Yohji sighed happily, leaning back in his seat and tucking his hands behind his head, sated. He grinned brazenly at Mei Teng and her date, happy with himself.

* * *

No night had ever lasted so long, Aya decided, standing in the elevator with Yohji at the end of the evening. It had been at least an hour since the redhead had deemed speak to the blonde.

The elevator stopped at his floor. Yohji caught his arm before he could make his exit.

"You aren't going to invite me back to your room?" He asked lightly.

Aya glared, wrenching his arm away.

* * *

He did not speak to Yohji again until Wednesday, when the other man showed up at his office.

"What the hell do you want, Kudoh?" he glared, watching the blonde flop down into one of the chairs set before his desk.

"What the hell do you expect me to do when you keep hanging up on me?"

"I'm angry at you."

"Don't you have that big dinner tonight?"

"I'll go without you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

The smaller man winced, knowing Yohji was right. Still he continued to glare. "I'm angry at you." He repeated in a growl.

Something deep within Yohji's eyes flinched before the blonde looked away, staring up at the ceiling as if he couldn't bring himself to care about the conversation overmuch.

"I got a little carried away." He relented finally. "Sorry."

"You completely humiliated me!"

Yohji looked down at his lap and shrugged as if in discomfort. "What do you want me to say, Aya? It's too late to take it back now, isn't it? It was supposed to be a date, wasn't it? How the hell else was I supposed to act?"

"Groping is not an acceptable behavior in public!"

"No one else minded." He grumbled. "Hell, they thought it was sweet."

"Yohji." He was trying his hardest to be patient and was just (barely) succeeding. "Yohji, when you behave that way, I don't know how to react." Yohji's head shot up once more and he stared at Aya as if the man had said the most surprising thing in the world. Aya ran over the sentence in his mind and could find nothing wrong with it. He decided to continue anyway. "We can't be caught lying about this, Kudoh. It could cost me my job."

"What am I supposed to do then?" The blonde countered. "We're pretending to be a couple. Couples touch, Aya. They hug and they kiss and they laugh."

"You went too far." Silence passed between them and Aya felt a sudden surge of fear. He was angry, true, but he wasn't willing to give up this strange friendship he and his former teammate had been so painstakingly forming. "Look Yohji, you caught me off guard and I don't like being surprised."

"I'm sorry, all right?"

"Maybe ground rules are in order." Aya mused. "If we decide together what is or is not permissible, then you won't surprise me and I won't handle the situation quite so poorly."

"Okay."

Neither moved. Aya fought the urge to snap at the man.

"I need time to think." He said finally. "Leave me alone."

"We have that thing tonight. You don't have time to think."

Aya cursed; how could he have forgotten?

Yohji sat up from his slouch, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes. "You got a lunch break coming up?" He asked, voice unreadable. "I'll treat."

Aya checked the clock on his computer and nodded briskly. "Fine," He decided, "We can do that. But why?"

A slow grin spread itself across Yohji's face.

"Practice."

* * *

By the time Aya returned to work he was more than ready to be saying goodbye to Yohji Kudoh. They had gone to a small fast food restaurant, chosen a secluded booth, and set to discovering just how much Aya had been prepared to let his "date" get away with.

As it turned out, the answer was "not much."

"Maybe we can tell everyone that we haven't been dating very long." Aya offered unwilling, as always, to leave the blonde's side.

Yohji stared at him speculatively and Aya had ti fight the sudden urge to rip the sunglasses from his face so he could see his eyes.

"Can I ask you something personal?" The former playboy asked finally.

Aya found himself nodding.

"You've never dated anyone before, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Don't be afraid of me, Aya." He said sincerely. "I won't hurt you."

The redhead released the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Good thing this is all only pretend." He said with a small smile. "I think that may be the only reason I _can_ trust you." He stepped away from the car, shoving his hands. He'd had the sudden, strange urge to brush that gleaming golden hair out of his companion's eyes. "I'll see you tonight."

Yohji stared at him for a long moment before starting his car.

"Yeah." He said, annoyance in his voice. "See you."

Aya watched him drive away, lost as to what he had said to upset the man. Wasn't _he_ supposed to be the volatile one?

* * *

Yohji showed up at his door an hour early bearing an offering of wine and roses.

"I'm not even ready yet, Kudoh." Aya glared, annoyed that Yohji had once again managed to transform himself into some stunning Adonis. "What are you supposed to be, anyway?"

The confident smile slipped from those lovely lips.

"What do you mean?"

He was wearing a finely cut black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, a crisp white shirt and a blood red tie. His hair was tied back into a neat tail.

"Are you supposed to be the god of wet dreams or the angel of the adult film industry?" He asked bluntly.

Yohji's eyes grew very wide.

"_Aya_!"

He turned and went back into his apartment, leaving Yohji to decide whether to follow or not.

"Should I go change?" Yohji asked in worry, following as Aya had known he would. "I don't want to screw this up for you, love."

Love. That gave him pause.

But it was one of the pet names they had agreed to using for their "cover." Aya had to get used to it.

He shook his head and turned back to Yohji, snatching the roses from his hand.

"Red roses don't stand for friendship, either." He informed him in annoyance. "Yellow ones do."

"Oh. Well, at least they smell good, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Aya continued into the kitchen. He had finally bought some vases, and he put the roses in one of them before setting them next to the violets.

Tohji's long arms wrapped around him from behind and he fought the urge to pull away. Practice, he reminded himself. Yohji was doing him a big favor by pretending to be his lover; he _couldn't_ yell at him for making him uncomfortable. He had to get used to the caresses and embraces.

"Do you want me to go home and change?" Yohji offered again, breath warm against his neck.

Aya scowled. "You'll look the same no matter what you put on. It can't be helped."

A low, utterly masculine chuckle. Lips momentarily brushed his neck before he was released.

"Go get dressed."

"We don't have to leave for another hour."

"And I plan to put that hour to good use. Please, Aya, go get dressed."

Twenty minutes later found Aya Fujimiya fully dressed and sitting on his couch with a glass of wine, allowing Yohji to brush his hair.

"I'm going to braid it." The blonde announced, running his fingers through the soft strands. Aya found himself nearly purring with pleasure.

"Is it long enough?"

"For a French braid, yeah."

Aya closed his eyes, feeling very relaxed and content. When Yohji finished in his task, he pulled Aya backwards against his chest and wrapped his arms around him and Aya didn't even care.

He felt at peace with Yohji as he hadn't felt since long before he became a murderer. At that moment the blonde could have done anything he wanted to him and he would have let him.

Too soon, Yohji released him, patting his leg.

"Come on, we need to leave."

* * *

With a squeal of "Fujimiya-san!" Mei Teng had latched herself onto them the moment they entered the banquet hall the company had rented for the night. Dressed in a shimmery, low-cut thing much too young for her, she placed herself between Aya and Yohji and entwined her arms with theirs before proceeding to lead them around the room to mingle.

"Now, now, don't get your hopes up, ladies, these two are madly in love with each other – you should have seen them the other night; they couldn't keep their hands off each other! It really is true, the good ones are all either married or gay – and these two might as well be both! But aren't they pretty!"

Aya wished she'd either stop or lower her voice. They had attracted the attention of Jiro Nakamura, the last of the three whose approval Aya needed to gain.

If the man didn't like a man who looked foreign, how would he feel about a man who chose to date other men?

Aya didn't want to even begin to think about it.

He wished he would have put a little more consideration into the whole thing.

After a while, everyone began to settle themselves into chairs for dinner. Gratefully, Aya slid his arm from Teng's.

"Where are you going?" She pouted, obviously enjoying her evening.

At least someone was.

"Yohji and I need to go find our seats." He answered, holding out his hand to the blonde. Yohji took it, coming to his side with a cheerful grin. "We'll talk to you later, though."

"Don't be ridiculous, Aya-san!"

When had she decided she could use his first name?

"You're going to sit with me!" She exclaimed, motioning to a table at which sat both Nakamura and Morita (the latter of which appeared to be already drunk.)

"I don't think…"

"Now, Aya-san, I had to go to a lot of trouble to get permission for you and Yohji-kun to sit with me. If you try to argue I'll be offended!" She scolded.

Aya wasn't sure, as he walked to the table hand-in-hand with Yohji, if he felt more like a child who had to be lead everywhere, or like the most flamingly gay individual ever to walk the surface of the planet.

The truth was, that Aya had never liked wome…well, that was to say, he wasn't exactly…

Uncomfortable with his own train of thought, the young man ducked his head quickly. He was certain that if he met anyone's eyes he would begin to blush or worse.

As if sensing his sudden discomfort, Yohji dropped his hand and, instead, wrapped his arm around his waist. Aya followed the gesture, for some unexplainable reason feeling better with the other man's arm around him than with holding hands. Not that he didn't enjoy holding hands with Yohji; it was comfortable and safe.

And not only did that frighten him, but somehow having Yohji's strong, calloused hand enveloping his own was an experience too private for him to willingly share with others.

He shrugged off the thought, reminding himself that it was Yohji he was with. Yohji, the notorious playboy. Yohji, the infamous womanizer.

Yohji, his friend and former teammate, who was only doing him a favor.

Mei Teng made introductions around the table as they took their seats. The number of hostile looks directed their way made Aya want to find somewhere to hide for the night.

But Yohji's hand slipped under the table to rest on his knee the moment the lanky man took the seat beside him, and it was as if that hand was an anchor, keeping him firmly in place.

With a hand that trembled very slightly, he reached out and picked up his water glass.

The polite conversation swirled around him without his paying much attention to it. Food was brought to them and he picked at it, barely noticing as Yohji's hand left his knee in favor of the back of his neck, long fingers toying lightly in his hair. He leaned in close and brushed his lips against Aya's jaw.

"Relax, will you?" He whispered under the context of kissing Aya's cheek. Drawing back, he chuckled seamlessly at the punch line of a joke Satoshi Morita had been telling. Aya could manage nothing more than a weak smile.

"So, how did you and Fujimiya-san meet, Kudoh-san?" A slim woman with short, spiky hair asked. Aya was fairly certain she was some photographer bigshot the record label was trying to woo into working with them. Chizaru-something. "As I understand it, he's only been back in Japan for a short time."

"We knew each other before, didn't we, love?" Yohji squeezed his shoulder, grinning.

"And you were together then?"

"No, I don't have that kind of luck." The blonde laughed. "Though I'm indescribably grateful I've gotten a second chance to act on my feelings."

"Second chance?"

"Oh yeah. I've wanted Aya since the first moment I laid eyes on him. Who wouldn't? I must have some incredible good fortune to have been given the chance to date someone so amazing." Yohji looked at him, eyes deep and dark and warm. He looked so sincere, so loving, that Aya had to remind himself that this was all only an act.

An overweight, somewhat stumpy-looking man stood, throwing his napkin down onto the table. "Excuse me," He said, lip curling. "I think I've lost my appetite."

Silence passed around the table for several long moments. Aya felt very warm and somewhat sick. His vision was swimming.

He excused himself as conversation was beginning once more and made his way quickly to the restrooms.

He turned the water on as cold as it would go and stuck his face under the faucet until the heat left him and he began to calm. When he straightened, he accepted the handful of paper towels offered to him by someone who had entered without his noticing.

"It takes a certain degree of bravery to walk into the lion's den – and stupidity to do so without showing fear."

Aya's head snapped up and he found himself staring into the stern face of Jiro Nakamura.

"You don't strike me as a stupid man, Fujimiya."

He tried to think of an answer, but his voice wouldn't work. The other man smiled very slightly.

"I've been thinking about it, Fujimiya, and I've decided that I may be persuaded to agree to the Hirata project…if you would agree to leave your present job and come to work for me."

"Nakamura-san!"

"You can tell me your decision by next Friday." Nakamura said, handing him the remaining paper towels he held. "Take all the time you need to compose yourself before coming back."

* * *

To Be Continued

The world is not a perfect place. People will always surprise you, whether for good or for ill. See you in ch. 5.

Blue violets – faithfulness

White violets – "Let's take a chance on happiness"

Red roses – love

**Response to Reviews: **

**moimoi-chan** - Aya's cluelessness is very important, that it is. (Grins)

**tigermink -** thanks for such a nice review! It's always been a bit of a challenge finding Weiss fanfiction, at least for me (much less information, sigh) Have you read Guilty Red or Rhosyn Du? They're _really_ good.

**Borglemash** - I'm glad you're enjoying it. I hope I can continue to interest you in my little plotline. ) Thanks so much.

**talietim69** - Aya's uke-ness seems to be everyone's primary concern. I would think it's pretty obvious, but then, I can't really see him any other way. Actually, with my stories, I tend to let the characters have a pretty equal share. (More realistic that way.) But they always tend to lean a bit one way or another, nevertheless...

**nates - **You like my ocs? (Does happy dance) They kind of annoy me, especially Mei, but they're vital to my plans. Guess I have to suffer through them. Thanks for the really great review, it really brightened my day.

**Moon without a Sun - **)


	5. Shopping Trip

From the deepest of insecurities I have been rescued by the numerous kind reviews about this fic. To everyone who has read, and especially those who have taken the time out of their busy lives to leave me a note of what they thought of my work, my most sincere thanks. Really; sometimes it feels like you're all the only thing that keeps me motivated. When a writer begins to doubt herself…it can get pretty nasty.

On a side note: I keep waiting for the horses to rebel and kill all the apes. Planet of the Equines, anyone?

Bridges

Chapter Five

* * *

Aya did not tell Yohji of Nakamura's surprising offer that night. He knew the blonde would immediately assume he was going to accept the job, and the redhead wasn't quiet certain yet if he should, or could, for that matter.

_Could_ he live in Japan again? Could he actually bear to…stay?

As far as Aya was concerned, the "date" was over the moment they were out of sight of those they were trying to deceive. He lapsed into silence, deep in thought, the moment he and Yohji were in the car heading toward the apartment complex. It took Yohji a full five minutes to realize that his companion had chosen to stop speaking.

A long and silent car ride. The theory of relativity in full effect, Aya supposed. He wasn't sure if Yohji was angry at him for closing off so abruptly, but the former assassin couldn't really bring himself to care.

At the apartment complex, Yohji walked him silently to his door.

Aya went inside without saying goodnight.

* * *

Four in the morning and the phone began to ring. Normally, a call at four a.m. would result in the severest of tongue-lashings from a very grumpy ex-swordsman – a truly traumatizing experience for the foolish caller.

This time though, Aya was not grumpy.

Aya was not grumpy because he had not been awoken by the phone.

Aya had not been awoken because he had not been asleep.

Yohji began ranting before he could even say hello.

"I can't just sit back and take it, Aya. I know we were only faking a romantic relationship, but I thought we were at least friends, damn it!" The young man on the other line raged. "This isn't Weiss anymore, Aya. We aren't strangers in a flowershop, and you aren't the all-powerful, unquestionable Leader. You can't just shut me out anymore!"

"Yohji…" He sighed.

"I've done a hell of a lot for you, Aya, whether you realize it or not! The very _least_ you could do in return is treat me like a human being!"

"Yohji!" He made himself louder this time. The blonde fell silent.

In fact, neither spoke for several minutes.

"Sorry." Yohji mumbled quietly. "I shouldn't have called so early."

"I'm sorry, too." Aya heard himself say. "I had something on my mind tonight."

"So why not tell me, then?"

"I can't. Not yet. Sorry."

"I understand."

Another long stretch of silence.

"I'm sorry for waking you." Yohji said finally.

"You didn't. I couldn't sleep."

"Me either."

Aya sighed to himself, suddenly missing the golden man's presence.

"Come over." He murmured quietly.

"You sure about that?" Yohji's tone was blatantly suggestive.

Aya sighed again.

"This isn't some sort of booty-call, Yohji. I just can't…I just don't want to be alone."

Another silence, this one so long that Aya began to wonder if the other man had hung up on him.

"Yohji?" He asked finally, wincing at the weariness in his own voice. "Are you still there?"

"I'm always there for you." Yohji answered finally, quietly. "I'll be right over."

* * *

Yohji arrived at his door in record time, dressed in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a ratty old robe. Aya couldn't help but to smile at him.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just never took you for the pajama type."

"Would you rather I show up naked?"

"Are you coming in or not?" Aya asked, stepping away from the door.

They popped popcorn and settled into the couch under a large blanket, an old movie in the VCR.

Aya fell asleep against Yohji, mind at last soothed enough for rest. He had a strange dream as he drifted off of the blonde man lightly brushing a kiss against his forehead.

* * *

When the alarm woke him some hours later, he found himself tucked snugly into his bed. Breakfast was waiting for him in the kitchen, and Yohji was gone.

The breakfast was still warm.

That very day Aya told Jiro Nakamura that he accepted the job and would be staying in Japan.

* * *

The office he had been using had been merely a loan. The moment Aya signed on for his new job, Nakamura gave him a new one.

The older man was still as stern-faced and strict as Aya's first impression had lead him to believe, but somehow, thanks to one Yohji Kudoh, he had gained both the man's approval and respect.

The new office Aya was given was large and bright, one entire wall consisting of nothing but windows. It looked bare with only Aya's scant possessions from the old office sitting atop his desk in a pitiful cluster, and he resolved, at the very least, to buy some artwork to hang over the desk.

Maybe Yohji would like to come with him when he went shopping…

Aya shook his head, banishing the thought and only blushing a little. Today he couldn't seem to get the blonde out of his head, and he thought he might know the reason why.

No.

No time for such asinine thoughts. His first appointment was walking in.

Aya smiled at the nervous-looking young man who took a seat across from him. Until he had proven himself, he would only be given the easiest of tasks. The boy before him was young and inexperienced and would agree to sign any contract Aya gave him if it meant he got the record deal he had dreamed all his life of.

It was going to be a dull day.

* * *

Friday evening, Yohji showed up at his door at what was becoming the usual time. As far as Aya could remember, they hadn't made any plans – wasn't the man tired of him yet?

Still, he stepped aside without question and let the other man into his apartment.

"Why aren't you ready?" The blonde asked, taking in Aya's sweat pants and overlarge t-shirt.

Aya turned away quickly, embarrassed to be seem looking so disheveled. He busied himself with putting away the book he had been reading to avoid looking at Yohji.

"I didn't know we had plans." He answered, a tad gruffly.

"You look cute."

Aya gestured with the book in his hand.

"You want this shoved up your ass?"

"Oooh. Kinky."

"_Yohji!"_

The lanky blonde plopped down on the couch, smirking brazenly at him.

"We'll stay in, then." He informed Aya. "What do you want to do?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I've got a few suggestions if you can't think of anything…"

Aya scowled. "And what if I don't want to do anything?" He countered. "What if I just want to spend the night here, reading?"

"Boring."

"Maybe I like being boring."

He lifted his shoulders in a graceful shrug, and Aya couldn't decide if the other man was making fun of him or not.

"I'll tell you what," Yohji said good-naturedly. "You do whatever you had planned for the night. Pretend I'm not even here."

"And what, pray tell, will you do?"

"Sit here and bask in the glory of your presence."

He was definitely making fun of him, but Aya decided to try, at the very least, to call his bluff. He sat at the other end of the couch, propped his feet up in Yohji's lap, and opened his book once more.

After a few moments, Yohji turned on the television and muted it. After a time, Aya forgot he was there.

That's when it started. At first, the redhead barely noticed the feather light-touch against the arch of his heel. When he finally did look up, it was to find a smirking Yohji focusing all of his attention on his foot. The blonde caught his ankle before he could wrench away.

"Yohji!" He gasped, fighting the urge to laugh and failing. "Yohji, stop! I'll kick you!"

He stopped, but did not release him. Smirk growing, he crawled forward over Aya's body and the redhead grew very still, distracted by surprise as things low in his body began to tighten.

Yohji stared deeply into his eyes, and he found himself tilting his head back submissively, silently begging for something he had no way of naming.

Then Yohji dug his fingers into his ribs.

Some time later, the former assassin found himself on the ground and out of breath from laughter, face streaked with tears. Yohji lay atop him, face in his shoulder.

"How about take-out?" Yohji suggested quietly, voice slightly muffled.

"I wasn't going to eat tonight."

"Skinny as you are?" Another jab to tickle-sore ribs. Yohji raised up on his elbows as Aya began to squirm beneath him. "Take-out?" He asked again.

"Get off me."

He laughed, bright and carefree, and did as told, nearly dancing to the phone.

"What kind of race-stereotyping food do we want tonight?"

"Don't care." Aya grunted, picking himself up off the ground and feeling suddenly very troubled. He righted himself back onto the couch as he watched Yohji flirt harmlessly with whoever he was speaking to. Aya scowled.

Yohji laughed, tossing his head, and Aya heart did a strange sort of flip-flop.

Shit.

The order was made and Yohji came to join him on the couch once more. The blonde soon found it nearly impossible to engage his companion in any form of conversation.

Aya opened his book and stared at the pages, unable to make sense out of the printed words. After catching himself reading the same sentence at least ten times, he stopped trying.

* * *

Yohji felt like cursing but restrained himself for fear he would be forced to explain his sudden bad mood to his companion.

Things had been going so well, damn it! He had gotten the human icicle to smile and laugh and relax. He had watched the shields fall away from those lovely amethyst eyes and felt the cold leave that perfect, supple body. He had thought…

He had turned his back for all of two minutes to order their food, plotting a romantic dinner followed by a profession of love and then, hopefully, an evening of amorous exercise in the bedroom.

When he had turned back to Aya, the relaxed, happy, open man he had coaxed out had vanished, replaced by the cold and dangerous Aya who had once lead the team known as Weiss.

What had gone wrong, Yohji wondered. Had Aya suspected how close Yohji had come to ravishing him? How very thin his control had been stretched when he had found himself with Aya beneath him, head tilted back in such delicious submission, long, pale column of neck exposed so delectably…

Yohji quickly shifted away from Aya and crossed his legs, focusing his mind on the basketball game playing on the muted television. Sports good. Basketball though…lean, sweaty men running around…probably wasn't the best sport to be chosen for calming himself down.

Yohji channel-surfed until he found golf, then settled back and tried not to think about the silent and much too alluring man sitting mere inches from him.

By the time their food arrived, he was composed enough to stand.

* * *

How had it happened?

Ran Fujimiya has been a normal boy once, long ago. He had felt attraction for other people before (usually other males – a secret kept even from his beloved sister.)

But Ran had died to give birth to the killer. Aya had always assumed that the part of him concerned with the delights of the flesh had died along with his innocence.

Yet here he was, a man certainly deserving of nothing of the kind, literally itching to pounce on Yohji Kudoh. It was an amazing, painful feeling – like taking first breath of air after nearly drowning.

It was certainly unexpected.

And embarrassing.

"Aya, get your bony ass over here and eat." Yohji snapped playfully, carrying the bags of food into the kitchen. The food smelt Indian. "And don't try bothering with – Hey! You still have that wine! Wanna finish the bottle?"

Aya pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, calling himself nine kinds of idiot and fighting the urge to laugh.

Yohji's harmless flirting had gotten to him! The man had been doing him a favor by pretending to be his lover and Aya had to go and ruing everything by wanting…_needing_…for it to be real!

His utter foolishness never ceased to amaze.

It was depressing, really. Especially knowing, as he did, that the blonde had already chosen the person he wanted to love.

Why in hell couldn't he have decided to want Yohji back when the man was more casual with his affections?

"Aya?"

"I'm coming." He answered, hoping that the hopelessness in his voice was only his imagination. He rose and made his way to the kitchen.

He was a horrible idiot, feeling that way for Yohji _now_. They were trying to be friends, weren't they? If Yohji ever discovered the way he felt, friendship would no longer be a possibility for them.

He didn't love the lanky blonde; emotions such as love were surely beyond Aya's capacity. He most certainly wanted his former teammate, however. The very thought of watching those golden hands slide over the pale skin of his body made him nearly gasp with longing.

Damn it.

Yohji was setting the table as he walked into the kitchen. He already had two places set with the paper plates Aya had been using since moving into the apartment. A Styrofoam cup sat at each setting, already filled with the remains of the wine from the other night.

Yohji made a sweeping bow, grinning at him as he pulled out a chair.

Glaring, Aya took the _other_ seat.

They were silent as they ate, but Yohji looked much too happy with himself for Aya to be at ease.

"Do you want to go shopping with me tomorrow?" Aya blurted, surprising himself.

It must have been the wine.

Yohji raised his eyebrows.

"Shopping for a prom dress?"

"I need things." The redhead glared. "Plates, cups, silverware, towels…do you understand the need for such things, or do I need to explain it to you?"

"I thought you didn't want to waste the money buying all of that when you're only going to be here a few months."

"I'm…" Aya glared down at his plate. "I'm not leaving."

"What?"

"Nakamura offered me a job. I accepted."

"Don't fuck with me, man."

"I'm not…I'm staying." Aya looked up suddenly, glaring fiercely. "Is that a problem? Was this whole friendship ruse only supposed to last for the duration of my stay?"

"Aya…"

He jumped as the blonde reached across the table to take his hand.

"I'm _thrilled_ you're staying." He said quietly.

Aya ducked his head, smiling. "I'm sorry." He murmured. "I'm just…tired."

"You should get some sleep, then."

"Do you want to stay?"

"Aya!" He grinned. "So forward!"

"That's not what I meant. Forget it."

Yohji rose and came to his side of the table, kneeling beside him. He pulled at Aya's arm until the redhead bent toward him. The blonde wrapped his arms around him and pressed his forehead to his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're staying." He said quietly. "This isn't some temporary friendship I need you in my life – and I want you to know that."

Aya leaned into him, his newfound lust for his former teammate taking a backseat to the comfort and safety Yohji brought to him.

Because Aya needed Yohji, too.

* * *

"This place has a discount for newlyweds." Yohji said, nudging Aya as they entered a store specializing in kitchenware. "Isn't that great, dear?"

Bad idea, Aya knew, opening his mouth to tell Yohji that he didn't feel like playing along.

"Fifteen percent! That's not half bad!"

Somehow the words never escaped his lips. He had a lot to buy and a discount would make everything so much easier for his frugal mind to accept. He had already spent much more than he would have liked to. Yohji had actually taken his card away to keep him from balking at paying for the mattress, pillows, and sheets they had bought in the last store.

"Knowing you and how you save," He had said, "All of this will barely put a dent in your bank balance."

Yohji was taking this whole shopping spree with far too much cheer. He was like a child at Christmas and, what was more, he refused to explain why he had taken to the task with such vigor.

"You're going to be living with this stuff – it might as well be nice, right?" He had asked while pressing into Aya's arms a comforter much thicker than the one he had been looking at. "It's not like you're the type to replace something once it begins to wear out – you might as well get something that's going to last you a little longer."

"Oh yes, that pattern is just _lovely_." Yohji was saying to the salesperson, startling Aya out of his thoughts. The smaller man noticed with a surprised amusement that his companion had affected the lisp stereotypical to gay men and was twirling a long stand of hair around one finger. "What do you think, honey pants?"

It was too much. Aya was going to be forced to laugh if Aya kept this up.

Not trusting his voice, he merely nodded once, sharply.

"I don't know, though." Yohji mused, tilting his head to the side and chewing on his bottom lip as he examined the set of plates he was looking at. "Do you have any, maybe, where the smaller flowers are pink? I just adore pink! Our whole kitchen is going to be pink, isn't it, bunny thong?"

"Bunny thong?" Aya and the unfortunate salesperson asked at the same time. Aya was fighting very hard not to laugh.

Yohji ignored the question.

"And, you know, maybe with the big flowers being purple? My love muffin here just _loves_ purple, don't you, sugar toes?"

"How about no pattern?" Aya asked tightly, picking up a plain white (and very cheap) plate.

"Aww, my little candy-lips just loves his arts and crafts. I know you would love to decorate the plates yourself, snuggly sheets, but you promised _I_ got to decorate the kitchen!"

In the end, Aya bought plates with just the smallest pattern of blue violets around the edges, along with plain, clear drinking glasses and the least-decorative silverware Yohji would let him even look at.

The store gave them a discount and, Aya thought, was very happy to see them leave.

* * *

Yeah. Yohji. _Sigh_. One thing to be said about him, though, the boy _does_ have fun.

In case you haven't yet noticed, the entire premise of this fic is that the two of them are dating and Aya doesn't realize it. (_Grins_.)

**Response to Reviews**:

**tigermink** - sorry for the confusion; those aren't stories, but extremely talented writers who post right here on Both are in my favorited listing if you want to check them out.

**moimoi-chan - **Maa...probably

**bluecup**- thankies!

**Moon without a Sun - **are those good unrecognizable sounds or bad?

**Shadowgirl1** - are you aware you're becomming one of my favorite people? Thanks so much for reading!

**talietim69** - well, Aya's beginning to figure out his own feelings, but for the time being is still oblivious to Yohji's. It will take a while, but not too long. I think clarification for the dear man may come in somewhere around chapter nine...

Thanks everyone! See you next week!


	6. Beware Where you buy Groceries

What? Gasp! Is it…is it really…?

Yes; it's a new chapter! (Waits for cheers, hears only the sound of crickets.) Okay, okay, sorry it's been so long. Don't be mad at me, kay?

* * *

Aya had nearly a week to gain some semblance of control over his knew and confusing feelings for Yohji Kudoh before having to see the man again. His new tasks at work left him literally too busy to speak or go to lunch with the blonde, and by the time he got home in the evenings he found himself too exhausted to do anything but think and try to sort through his feelings. 

It was perfectly normal, he had decided by Wednesday night, to feel attraction for his former teammate. Aside from being physically attractive and literally exhuding sexuality like it was some expensive cologne, Yohji's presence was comforting to Aya. He could talk to him.

With all of the pretending they had been doing for the benefit of Mei Teng it had been easy for Aya's mind to trick him into believing that there was some spark between him and the older man, and now that he had recognized the mind trick, he would be able to protect himself from it. The next time he spoke to Yohji Kudoh, it would be perfectly clear that his feelings for the blonde had been nothing more than common lust – an easy and simple thing to overcome. The strange friendship the two had formed would be safe.

By the time Yohji called Thursday evening, Aya was more than happy to be speaking to him again.

"Well, don't you sound unusually cheerful." Yohji's voice drawled lazily over the other line. "Having some quality time with Bob, are you? That's nice."

Despite himself, Aya smiled.

"Do you have a reason for calling or did you just want to irritate me?"

"Would you believe that I just wanted to hear your voice?"

"No," Aya chuckled, feeling warmly toward the other man. This was nice, safe. There was something reassuring about his teasing. "Try again." He suggested.

"I just wanted to make sure we had plans for tomorrow." The former playboy answered. "Don't want my head bitten off for showing up unexpected again."

"Maybe I was just hungry last week?"

"Mm. I see. And how do you enjoy the taste of head, Aya?"

It took the redhead a full moment before he realized what the blonde had said. When he finally did, he felt his face go warm with anger or embarrassment or both.

"Kudoh!"

The line filled with the blonde's knowing, utterly masculine laughter.

"Do we have plans or not, bunny-thong?" He asked at last.

"If you ever call me that again, Kudoh, I will rip out your gentiles and feed them to you."

"But yours are so much more appetizing, Aya."

"Kudoh, I'm about three nano-seconds away from hanging up on you." He seethed dangerously.

"And everyday I get down on my knees and thank the gods for your saint-like patience." Yohji laughed. "All right, I'll take the fact that you haven't yet told me to fuck off, as well as the miraculous knowledge that you haven't yet hung up on me to mean that you do not object to sharing your precious time with me tomorrow night."

"Fine." Aya sighed. "What do you have planned?"

"The usual?"

'The usual' was sounding awfully good to Aya after his stressful week.

"What's playing?"

"No idea. I already threw out my newspaper. We'll find something, though. If all else fails, we can just close our eyes and point at a movie poster at random, right? So? What do you say?"

"Fine. I suppose I can find a few hours to spare for you."

"That was a joke, right?"

"Believe whatever you wish."

"That had better have been a joke, Aya. Aya?"

Smiling to himself, Aya hung up the phone. Tomorrow night would give him exactly what he needed. With a clear head and his new perspective, he could easily recognize the purely carnal lust he felt for Yohji and move on.

He was already making progress. After all, he had already had a full conversation with the man without one lustful thought. That had to mean something, didn't it?

* * *

A wide grin spread itself across Yohji's face the moment Aya opened the door. 

"Damn. I wish I was Bob right now." He announced without preamble. Aya made no response other than to stare at him as if the blonde had done something to surprise him. "You know," Yohji clarified, "Because he gets to be up your…"

"I don't need you to explain it to me, Kudoh." Aya bit out, eyes narrowing into a glare. Shit; he was in a pissy mood tonight. Yohji was completely lost as to what he had done wrong, but then again he often didn't know what he did to anger the small swordsman.

So, he decided not to worry about it. He would think about something more pleasant instead.

Aya was always beautiful, Yohji reflected, but tonight he seemed especially delicious. He seemed to have dressed for comfort: well-fitted, extremely faded jeans, an overlarge sweater in alternating shades of green. He had left his hair down (the way Yohji secretly preferred it). He looked ready to curl up next to a giant fire or something, and Yohji would have been very glad to abandon their plans for the night if it meant he got to enjoy him.

Yohji had never met anyone else who could be both sexy and adorable at the same time. It was a dangerous and addictive combination.

Still, Yohji still had not decided if he preferred it when Aya dressed in baggy clothes or tight. Both had so many charms…

"Are you ready?" He asked lightly, finding himself trapped under his companions furious glare. Aya must have noticed him looking him up and down again. "Show starts at seven, you know."

"Why re you dressed like that?" Aya seethed.

"Like what?" Yohji glanced down at himself, unable to find anything wrong with his customary leather pants and midriff-bearing long-sleeved shirt.

"You…" Aya shook his head, changed whatever he had been planning to say, and redoubled his glare. "You'll freeze in that."

"I've got a coat." He answered, hoping Aya planned to lighten up _sometime_ over the course of their evening. "Why, you worried about me?"

"No." He glared, slipping on his shoes and grabbing up his own coat before pushing past into the hall.

* * *

As it turned out, they did end up having to choose a movie at random. Nothing foreign was playing ("damn" Yohji had said, not the least bit disappointed) and they knew nothing about any of the other showings. 

Huddling close to protect themselves from the chilly wind, the two young men examined each of the movie posters in turn. Yohji put his arm around Aya and the redhead didn't pull away – even when the playboy rashly slid his hand into the smaller man's back pocket. (That action, strangely enough, didn't even earn him a glare. It was as if Aya didn't notice it. As if something was distracting the younger man. Thinking about it made Yohji's head hurt, and so he stopped trying.)

Aya's anger had cooled since stepping out into the cold weather. Yohji had even managed to coax a smile from him. And a laugh.

There was something indescribably sweet about the former assassin when he relaxed and forgot that he was supposed to be depressing and moody.

At last the two agreed on a movie whose poster they both liked, bought their tickets, and moved into the theatre. The return of warmth did not, fortunately, mean a return to Aya's unexplained bad mood. He didn't even move away from Yohji's side.

"Do you want to get something?" Yohji asked, nodding toward the concession area.

"Do you want to share something?" Aya suggested, voice quiet.

Was it Yohji's imagination, or had he snuggled closer?

Grinning, Yohji agreed. They bought their snacks and headed in for their movie and Yohji was almost able to convince himself that they were a real couple.

* * *

Yohji didn't want the evening to end. He slowed as they neared Aya's apartment, reluctant to let the smaller man go. 

Tonight, he had decided after Aya had stopped glaring and growling and had become so very sweet. Tonight he would make his move at last and know once and for all if the former leader of Weiss was willing to allow him into his heart.

"Aya,"

The smaller man pulled away from him and turned to face him, eyes cold and guarded. The charming companion he had been over the course of the evening was completely gone.

"Yohji." He acknowledged with a curt nod.

"Can I come inside?"

"I don't really see any point in that, do you?"

"Why are you mad at me?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not." He stated coldly. He turned to his door, fishing his key from his pocket. He got the door unlocked and open before turning back to Yohji. "There's an art exhibit next weekend that I want to go see." He informed him tightly, as if speaking the words was somehow painful. "Do you want to go with me?"

"Yeah, sure."

Aya nodded once, sharply, and retreated into his apartment. The door was closed and locked before Yohji could even attempt to follow.

At first the blonde was ready to cruse. His next instinct was to break the door down. Finally, he shoved his hands into his pockets and forced himself to take the long and lonely trek back to the elevators alone.

His chance, if indeed one had existed, was gone.

* * *

Aya leaned back against the door and closed his eyes, suddenly finding the need to calm his breathing. His hand scrambled for the lock as the sudden and frightening idea that Yohji might try to come in anyway struck him. 

It had been too close. He had nearly…

Aya was furious. All of his resolve and careful planning had vanished the moment he had opened to reveal Yohji Kudoh, dressed like the world's most sought-after boy toy. The shock of his beauty had been such that there had been no way for Aya to tell if his feelings for the man stemmed beyond carnal lust.

The winter air outside had helped him to clear his head, but he had been so frightened by his reaction to Yohji at the apartment that he had been unwilling to use his suddenly clear mind to sort through his feelings. All he had wanted was to enjoy his time with the blonde, and he had. For a few short hours he had managed to forget himself enough to simply stop thinking and enjoy his time out with Yohji.

Now the really terrifying thing. He had enjoyed himself so much that now he knew that there was no denying the fact that it was more than desire which made his heartbeat speed up at the sight of the playful blonde.

Yet, despite that, he had invited him to the museum.

He could feel Yohji out in the hallway, feel him like he could feel his arm. He knew beyond the capacity for doubt that the other man was still out there.

When Aya couldn't take it anymore, he fumbled clumsily with the lock. By the time he got the door open, Yohji was gone.

* * *

She examined the tomato in her hand carefully before putting it in the plastic sack with the other two her searching eye had deemed "acceptable." Cheerfully, she spun the bag closed and placed it in the cart with her other groceries, then checked her list for the next needed item. 

Bread, she decided, was next. It was, after all, the closest. She turned in the appropriate direction and stopped short, breath catching in her throat almost painfully.

A flash of red, a hint of violet. The young man examining the fruit turned away without having seen her.

A slim, delicate body made even smaller by the black, ankle-length coat he wore. Dark red hair fell just past his shoulders, held back in a small tail. The girl's throat worked, but no sound escaped her lips.

The young man's cell phone rang, the quiet twitter of classical music. He fished it from his pocket and stared at it a long moment before answering.

"What do you want?"

No, she had to be wrong.

Her brother's voice had never sounded so cold and sharp and angry.

"I told you to leave me alone until Friday." The young man said in annoyance to whoever it was on the other line. Irritably, he snatched up one of the plastic bags and turned back toward the display of fruit, putting apples in the bag with harsh, quick movements.

For just a moment eyes of an intense, cold violet brushed her face.

Aya released the breath she had been holding.

"Ran?"

The eyes shot back to her face and the young man paled. His voice, when he spoke, was still cold.

"Kudoh? I'll have to call you back."

She took a step forward, feet moving as if of their own accord as the young man slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Ran."

He turned to her fully then, and she knew. Despite the long hair, nearly unhealthily slim body, and ice cold eyes, she knew.

"Ran!"

Something flickered across that face.

"No." He stated. "I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else." He didn't so much as flinch at the lie. She knew it was a lie. It had to be a lie.

But Ran had never lied to her before.

He brushed past her without a word. By the time Aya found her voice again, her brother was out of sight.

* * *

Jiro Nakamura viewed the young man before him a long while before deeming to speak. 

"Your former employers were quite upset with your notice that you were leaving their company." He stated finally. "They called me several times and were most unpleasant. I was called a number of unseemly names."

"I'm sorry, sir." Fujimiya murmured quietly.

A fine boy, Nakamura mused. A good addition.

"I am hoping their reticence to see you go speaks well of your work." He continued with a small smile.

"I…yes, sir."

"So far, I have seen nothing to go against this. So I've decided to give you a little test."

"A test, sir?"

He slid a file across the desk toward the smaller man.

"From this point on, you are this kid's manager. He is your sole responsibility. He's got reasonable talent – make him a success, and then we'll talk."

* * *

Yohji Kudoh had not felt so cheerful in a long while. There was a definite spring in his step, and he couldn't seem to stop whistling. 

His business was going fairly well, considering that he's been slacking off evening during the weekends. The joys of being self-employed. He was also, miraculously, having some semblance of success – both with finding customers and with solving cases.

He liked to think that Asuka was sending him what he needed as her way of showing her approval of his growing relationship with Aya.

The thought of the redhead made a smile spread across his face of its own volition.

So things hadn't gone as well as he had hoped last week. The important thing was that Aya had been the one to initiate their plans for this week – surely this was a good sign.

The blonde switched to humming as he pushed open the door to the tiny shop and walked in, giving a wave to the dark haired girl behind the counter before heading to the display he needed.

"What are you buying today, Yohji-san?" One of the shopkeepers asked with a smile, coming over and leaning against one of the freezers.

He couldn't help but to grin at her.

"Primrose, I think."

"And that one means?"

" 'My heart aches for you.'" His grin widened. "I think I'm getting really close."

The girl laughed at the obvious excitement in his voice.

"When are you going to bring this girl by to meet us, anyway?" She asked. "We're all really curious, you know."

"Ah, but Sakura, jot go I know you deserve to meet someone so important to me?" He teased, turning to the counter. The girl there was pale and quiet. "How much do I owe you, Aya-chan?"

Beside him, Sakura laughed. "You know your money's no good here."

He made a show of arguing for a few moments, as usual, but finally relented with a laugh and his most charming smile for the two girls.

"I'll see you two later." He said with a smile, turning toward the exit.

"Yohji-san, wait! I want to hire you!"

The shout came suddenly, unexpectedly. When he turned back to Aya, her face was pale but for two bright spots of color on her cheeks.

"Why, you little vixen." He smirked.

Like her brother, Aya-chan could be severely embarrassed by even the slightest hint of sexual innuendo. Her entire face grew beet red at his comment.

"No!" She squeaked, hands moving to cover her mouth. "No, I meant…Kudoh-san!"

He laughed, leaning against the counter.

"What is it, Aya-chan?" He chuckled. "Some guy haunting your dreams? Need my expertise to find out everything about him?"

"Yes." She answered.

Yohji had a moment of shock. Aya's face grew even more red as she realized what she had said.

"No, it's not like that!" She pulled her hands down from her face and took a deep breath. "Kudoh-san, I need to hire you to find my brother."

"Not this again!" He groaned, trying to keep his voice light. "I told you, the man doesn't want to be found."

"No!" She shook her head. "No, he's back. He's in Japan. I saw him! I…I spoke with him."

"You…? What did he say?"

She looked away. "He pretended he didn't know me…but I know it was him! I know it was Ran!" She looked up again, eyes desperate and pleading. "Please, Kudoh-san! I'll pay whatever you want!"

"I don't want your money, Aya-chan."

He loved the girl, the sister of the man he wanted to spend his life with. In the years since she had awoken from her coma, he had come to care for her as if she were his own sibling. Since Aya had left without so much as a word, Yohji had taken to frequenting the old flower shop to check up on the man's sister. If there was anyone he would do anything to make happy, it was her.

But he and Aya had talked about the girl. Aya didn't feel as if he could possibly involve himself further with her when he had become so tainted with the blood of men. Yohji had tried to talk him out of his decision, but the man was _stubborn_. He felt far too much loathing for himself to change his mind.

And there was no way to explain to sweet little Aya-chan why her beloved brother didn't want to see her.

"Aya-chan, are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked quietly.

She nodded, setting her jaw stubbornly.

"I want to see my brother." She insisted.

Yohji nodded thoughtfully.

"I'll see what I can do, then." He offered.

He would talk to Aya and see what he could do to convince the man not to break his sister's heart. She needed him, whatever his past.

* * *

To Be Continued 

So, after so long, here you go. What do you think? Don't forget to review!

So I currently have three "active" fics I'm working on, and I'm expecting to have a very busy semester. So rather than play favorites, like I did last semester, I'm thinking or rotating the fics – meaning each story is updated once every three weeks. I know that sounds like a long time, but it's better than nothing, and it's the best I can come up with. Anyway, I'm not even sure it'll work, but we'll give it a shot!

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Ran Kudou** - I made you die? (Concerned) Can zombies read? Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review. I hope you enjoyed the new chappie, and I'll try to get a new one out soon!

**moimoi-chan - **"feelings" are the least of Aya's problems, I assure you.

**kirai - **Thanks so much! Mm, I'm not sure how long it's going to be; I haven't finished it yet! My stories usually run pretty long though, so never fear!

**gonyos** - thankies!

**Moon without a Sun - **I love squee


	7. The Adventures of George and Ramon

Well, well, well. What is this? Yes! My dears, it appears that this is another update.

(Watches while readers all simultaneously pass out.)

Oh well. The show must go on.

Big thanks to everyone who took the time to review and give me their wonderful support! I have the best reviewers in the world!

Special thanks to Moimoi-chan. For poking me. And making me giggle.

* * *

Whatever had been bothering Aya the night they went to the movies did not seem to still be bothering him this night. He had smiled when Yohji came to the door, invited him to come inside while he finished getting ready. 

The only time at all in which he had acted like his old, grumpy self had been when Yohji had presented him with the primrose. His face had gone blank and cold, his eyes hostile.

"I've got to have gotten it right this time." Yohji said lightly, feigning ignorance.

Aya's expression softened. Yohji would have almost said the other man looked sad.

"Primrose doesn't stand for friendship, either."

"I'll get the hang of it eventually." Yohji laughed.

Whatever it was, the spell was broken. Aya was once more the quiet but sweetly needy man who had returned to Japan after two years away.

"I guess I should have been the one to bring flowers this time." Aya said at last, smiling ruefully. "This whole thing was my idea this time, wasn't it?"

"Does this mean we're taking your car?" Yohji teased with a grin, glad to have "his" Aya back.

"Sure, if you like."

Yohji had a moment to feel startled before realizing that Aya had passed him and was walking down the hall toward the elevators. Yohji made sure the door to Aya's apartment was locked before hurrying after the small man.

"I didn't know you had a car."

"No? Not very observant, are you?"

"You could have mentioned it earlier, you know. Save me some gas driving your ass around."

"I'm…sorry?"

Yohji laughed as they entered the elevator. As the doors were closing, a shout went up down the hall. Yohji held out his hand to stop the doors while they waited for four people to join them.

College students and, it seemed, all ready to party. The girls were dressed like sluts, the guys in sports jerseys. They smelled faintly of alcohol, and one of the boys very strongly of marijuana. The elevator was small enough to feel crowded with six people inside, but Yohji stopped minding as Aya moved closer to him to avoid the newcomers.

The others paid little attention to the two men. One of the girls had shoved one of the boys up against the wall and proceeded to see just how far she could shove her tongue down his throat in a manner verging on pornographic. The other two in the party were fighting very hard to keep up the appearance of sobriety, hanging all over each other and giggling at the light fixture as if it were the funnies thing they had ever seen.

Yohji fought the urge to laugh. Some of the wild parties he had been to in his life would have shocked and disgusted the "experienced" kids in the elevator. Nevertheless, even drunk and high and climbing all over each other, the kids seemed much more young and innocent than Yohji himself could ever remember being.

He wondered how any of them would react to know how desperately he wanted the beautiful man beside him. Were they anywhere near as homophobic as any of his old schoolmates had been?

It would have been a fun test to see how much he could do to Aya before the kids reacted, but he didn't think Aya would appreciate being mauled – especially not in front of others. They hadn't even kissed yet.

_Yet_.

Gods. There had to be something wrong with Yohji's mind. He kept forgetting that Aya did not yet belong to him. So many times he had to stop himself from doing or saying something to the smaller man that he did not yet have the right to do or say.

Every morning he was surprised to wake up alone. Every evening he was saddened and disappointed to come home to an empty apartment after hours of fantasizing that Aya would be there waiting for him.

He kept forgetting that they weren't together.

They _needed_ to be together, damn it!

"Shit, man." Yohji laughed a few moments later as they walked through the parking garage to Aya's car. "The porche? I thought you sold it when you left!"

Aya shook his head, and Yohji was beginning to know him well enough to realize that the younger man was amused.

"I found a place to store it for me for a good price."

"Then why the hell have I been driving you everywhere?"

Aya laughed. It was a small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, and Yohji secretly cheered this small victory.

"You always offered." The redhead answered. "I didn't want to offend."

"Are…are you teasing me?"

Aya looked at him over the hood of the porche, expression more vulnerable than Yohji had ever seen it.

"Yohji…for today…can we just…pretend?"

"Pretend what?" Yohji asked, drowning in Aya's sad eyes.

He hesitated.

"Can we pretend that we are two normal men out on an outing?" He asked quietly. "That we've never taken life, never…seen the things we've seen?"

"Aya…"

"I need to see what normalcy is like. At least for a few hours I want to be free to let my defenses down – and you're the only one I trust enough to try that with."

"I'm…honored."

"Don't tease me, Yohji." He snapped, steel in his voice.

"I'm not. I'm completely serious." Yohji held out his hand, but couldn't reach Aya over the car. Instead he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. When Aya slid in next to him, he put his hand on the smaller man's knee. "Let's do it Aya."

"What?"

"Let's do it. Let's pretend we're two normal men just out for the day – though what _normal_ man would willingly go to an art exhibit is beyond me…"

"Kudoh…"

"Tell ya what. I'll be…Ramon and you can be…George."

"George?"

"Yes, George."

Aya laughed. Yohji didn't think the small man wanted to laugh, but it was as if he couldn't help it. Encouraged, the blonde decided to continue.

"I'm a Hispanic stock-broker taking a vacation from m y cheating wife and horrible four-point-five children." He decided.

"You're Hispanic?" Aya asked doubtfully, pulling out of his parking place.

"Don't interrupt me. Now you, George, are a Greek sailor on shore leave. You and I met up at a cocktail party held by a mutual acquaintance via the internet and, unable to fight our mutual attraction for each other, we've started a wild and passionate romance…"

"Have you been drinking?"

"Don't interrupt me now, George."

"Yohji…"

"Ramon." The blonde corrected, tossing his head. "Make sure you get our story right, all right, bunny-thong?"

"Didn't I warn you to stop calling me that?"

"Now, if anyone asks, the only reason two men as studly as you and I are going to an art exhibit is because it's always been your dream in fuck in a museum. You don't know anything about art. In fact, you're illiterate."

Aya began to laugh, and Yohji felt warmth spread throughout him.

* * *

"Now, Romanticism is an art movement that spread throughout the west during the nineteenth century." The tour guide said with a practiced smile, motioning to a painting. "Note the bright colors and expressive brushstrokes. Romanticism was known for the emphasis it placed on emotion." 

Yohji stifled a yawn and glanced around the tour group boredly, wondering at how everyone could look so interested. He hadn't known the exhibit Aya was dragging him to was an exhibit of reproductions of famous Western artworks.

Somehow, art created by old dead white guys was just more boring than normal art.

A flash of red caught his eye and he realized with surprise that Aya had wandered away from the group. Dutifully, the blonde went to the man he cared so very much for – having to nearly physically restrain himself to keep from putting his arms around the smaller man.

"The group's going off without us, Aya." He said quietly. "They're moving on to…" He checked the program. "Expressionists next."

"We'll catch up." Aya answered softly, wrapping his arms around himself. Yohji turned to the picture the smaller man was viewing and drew back, disturbed.

"What the hell is that?"

"Does it bother you?"

"Hell yeah."

Aya smiled grimly. "Johann Fuseli's _The Nightmare_." He stated, voice so quiet that Yohji had to strain to hear him. Yohji looked at the painting again, finding himself unable to explain exactly why it bothered him.

A woman in white lay asleep on a bed, a demon sitting on her chest and a white-eyed horse in the background. The demon seemed to be looking out of the picture and directly at the viewer, a snarl on its lips.

Yohji shuddered.

"Nightmare. Yeah, I can see that."

"Fuseli did several versions of this painting; it was based off a reoccurring dream he was said to have had."

"Sucks to be him."

Aya snorted. "Fuseli was obsessed with a woman who would not have him. Many believe that the incubus on the woman's chest is meant to represent Fuseli himself."

Yohji opened his mouth to say something flippant, but Aya's face was so solemn that he quickly changed his mind. He didn't know what his companion saw in the painting, but Aya was staring at the awful thing as if it held the greatest secrets of the universe.

"Come on." Yohji pled gently, succumbing to temptation and putting an arm around Aya's shoulders. The smaller man leaned into him and allowed himself to be drawn away, pliant and trusting. Yohji had to fight very hard not to kiss the lovely man.

* * *

After the art exhibit, it was a very subdued Aya who suggested that they go for something to eat. Yohji had planned to call it an early night and go home to work on some of his cases – but he was unwilling to leave Aya when the man was in such a dark mood, and it was rare enough that the redhead suggest eating anything that Yohji wouldn't have dreamed of turning him down. 

Anyway, he had yet to have found the appropriate opening to attempt to convince Aya to go and see his little sister.

Plus, the man had grown far too quiet for Yohji to feel safe leaving him alone.

"You still in there, George?"

Aya looked up over his menu and smiled softly. "Are you still stuck on that silly game, Kudoh?"

"Ramon." He corrected.

He shook his head, smile gaining a bit more warmth. "I refuse to call you that."

"Yohji, then."

"Kudoh…"

"Why not? You've been using it on and off for weeks."

He blinked, genuinely surprised. "I have?"

"You didn't notice?"

Wide-eyed, Aya shook his head. Yohji couldn't help but to laugh.

"And here I thought we were making progress!"

Aya blushed, then scowled, the illusion of innocence melting away. "You," He said in a cold voice, "Are impossible."

Yohji licked his lips, feeling a thrill of triumph as Aya's eyes involuntarily followed the action. "And you," He said smoothly, leaning in toward Aya until their faces were mere inches apart, "_Love_ it."

He found himself staring at Aya and Aya staring back silent, unchallenging. Even from so close Aya's lovely face was flawless. His skin looked like pale silk, his lips seemed as soft and inviting as rose petals.

Yohji nearly groaned as he forced himself to pull away, watching as Aya blinked in surprise and tried to figure out what had just happened.

"How was your week?" Yohji asked, hoping to avoid a question he saw as unavoidable. One day Aya _would_ work it out. On that day, Yohji could have everything he ever wanted.

Or, just as easily, he could lose it all.

Aya relaxed, releasing the question on his tongue, unasked.

"Busy." He answered, taking a sip of his drink. "Nakamura assigned me sole jurisdiction over this kid…the boy's an idiot." He nodded as Yohji laughed. "No, I honestly think that there's something wrong with him. He signed the contract without reading it, and we practically own him now. He's only just now realizing his mistake and he seems to think that if he stops showing up for work he can get out of it."

"Sounds like a mess."

"It is."

"Aren't you glad you have the great and magnificent Yohji Kudoh to help cheer you up at the end of the week?"

"So now you're Yohji Kudoh again?" Aya arched an eyebrow. "What happened to 'Ramon'?"

Yohji shook his head sadly. "His plane went down over China while he was traveling back to Spain. His ghost now wanders the seven seas looking for George, his only love."

"Ah." Aya rolled his eyes, massaging his temple. Yohji reached across the table to cover his other hand with his own, suddenly concerned.

"You're too tense, Aya." He said quietly. "You've always been too tense. In all the years I've known you, you've never once been completely at-ease."

"What do you call all the time I've been spending with you?"

"You relax." Yohji acknowledged, "A little. But not enough. Aya, you're still hard, still…"

"Inhuman?"

"I didn't say that."

Silence passed between them for a few excruciatingly long moments. Finally Aya turned his hand in Yohji's and gave the blonde man's a squeeze, sighing quietly.

"I'm sorry; I'm a little upset this week." He stated quietly. "I saw my sister at the grocery store and I've been unable to stop thinking about the encounter ever since. I'm sorry if my mood has ruined your evening."

It was the opening Yohji had been hoping for. Yohji placed his other hand atop Aya's so that he was holding the slim, pale appendage in both of his own, and trapped the younger man's eyes with his most sincere gaze.

"I know you saw her." He admitted quietly, fighting the urge to flinch at the surprise in his companion's eyes. "I spoke to her."

"You saw my sister?" Aya demanded, voice low and suspicious.

Yohji nodded. "I've kind of been keeping an eye on her since you left." He informed him, attempting to grin and failing miserably. "She works in the old flower shop. She…she _really_ wants to see you, Aya."

"She told you this?"

"She asked me to find you for her."

Aya's eyes grew cold and hard, all last traces of friendship vanishing in one heartbreaking instant.

"She knows we've been speaking?" He demanded, pulling his hands away violently. "Is that why I 'happened' to run into you at the club that night, Kudoh? Did you track me there?"

"Aya; don't be - "

"_Did you track me there?_"

"No, okay? No. It was coincidence, that's all. Gods, Aya, this isn't some kind of a case for me; I've been completely honest with you this whole time. I missed you. I wanted to renew our acquaintance. Aya-chan only asked me to find you _after_ she saw you at the store." He searched his former leader's eyes, desperately trying to find something, _anything_, to show he was getting through to the stubborn young man. "She wants to hire me as a P.I., that's all. I'm not going to take her money, but…but she wants to see you. She _needs_ you."

"I forbid you to tell her how to find me." Aya stated coldly. The ice had melted from his eyes. He was no longer angry, just…terrified.

"I wasn't going to." Yohji assured him, fighting to make his voice gentle and soothing. "But, Aya, you can't avoid her. After everything you've done for her and because of her you can't just never see her again."

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do."

"Aya…"

"Leave me alone, Kudoh. Leave me alone before I hurt you." Aya pushed back his chair and stood, refusing to look at the blonde.

Yohji caught him around the waist from behind as he made to storm away, pressing his face into the younger man's back.

"Aya, _please_." He whispered, knowing that they were attracting stares and not caring. "Aya, I…I care too damn much about you to let you continue to torture yourself this way. You don't deserve it, whatever you believe. Please, please don't leave. Please, sit back down and talk to me. Let me help you."

The small man grew terribly still, and that was the only warning Yohji had before the redhead's elbow jabbed sharply backwards into his ribs and his heel came down over his foot. Yelping, the blonde was forced to release his hold on the former swordsman, and could only stare helplessly at the man he loved fled the restaurant.

Yohji paid the bill and took a cab home. Aya refused to answer both his phone and his door.

Yohji had pushed too far. He had ruined everything. All his hard work, the small glimmer of hope that had been revealed…it was all lost.

Yohji tried Aya's cell phone twice more before throwing down his own phone and grabbing up his keys.

* * *

Aya paced restlessly across his apartment, cell phone in hand. It had been at least an hour since the last time it had rung. 

His face was wet with tears he didn't know the source for, and his hands didn't seem to want to stop shaking. His heart hurt, and there seemed to be a cold lump of fear in his belly.

He had fought with Yohji. Yohji, who had been so good to him and who had done so much for him and was only trying to help.

Had he ruined everything? The friendship that he had begun to depend so very much on…had he destroyed it?

He dialed Yohji's number, let it ring once, and hung up.

He felt like crying.

* * *

**I was going to update this on Mon Jan 23 but would show neither my stories nor my stats, and updating was impossible. Don't blame me! Go and protest the evilness of having to wait. (Bwahaha?)**

All right, that's it for now. And look; it's out much sooner than expected! (Cheers!)

"Somehow, art created by old dead white guys was just more boring than normal art." This is purely Yohji's point of view. Obviously, not all art is made by "old dead white guys," and neither is it boring. Don't write me complaining.

Aya sees a reflection of himself and his longing for Yohji in Fuseli's painting. Of course, he doesn't bother explaining this to anyone…

I wrote this chapter back in October when I was taking art appreciation. (Obviously.) If anyone wants any information on romanticism, expressionism, or Fuseli…do a google search.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Moon without a Sun - **You're so welcome! Are you still dancing?


	8. There's Someone He Loves

I'm evil. Acknowledged.

Beware.

* * *

A week without word from Aya. Of course, he had kept his phone off for most of the week, but still he took the lack of word from the redhead as a sign that the pale young man had decided not to forgive him.

Yohji hadn't been to the office since Friday; he hadn't so much as looked at any of his cases. Saturday had been spent in a bar. Sunday he had woken feeling so shitty that, once again, he swore off bars forever. The smoky air proved to be just too much for his damaged lungs.

So he had bought his own booze and stayed at home in his pajamas, drinking and watching bad made-for-tv movies. By Thursday night, he had run out of booze.

Early Friday morning, a blizzard struck. Yohji briefly considered making a beer-run anyway, then caught sight of himself in the mirror.

In short, he was a wreck.

"Pretty pathetic to be doing this to myself over a guy I haven't even slept with." He mumbled to himself, utterly and completely miserable.

He set a pot of coffee to brewing and took a hot shower. He ordered a pizza. By the time he had dressed and died his hair, the coffee was ready.

By the time his doorbell rang, he was beginning to feel something like himself again.

"Just a minute." He called, going for his wallet. Frankly, he was impressed by the delivery boy's speed in the snow.

He opened the door and stopped short, staring.

"I've got three horrible movies I know you like, those sugar-loaded cookies you used to buy and then hide from Omi, and a hand-written admission of wrong-doing." Aya said quietly, eyes averted. "It's all for you, but only if you agree to forgive me."

Yohji's hug was more like an attack, pushing them both out into the hall. Aya dropped his bagful of goodies to tentatively put his arms around the taller man, gasping quietly as Yohji squeezed him and nuzzled his neck.

* * *

Less than an hour later, they were at Yohji's table eating pizza, all forgiven between them. The comfort they had shared before the argument had not yet completely returned, but it would.

"You know you're going to have to watch those so-called 'horrible' movies with me, right?"

"Well," Aya gave a small smile. "It's doubtful that we'll be going out in this mess, anyway."

Yohji grinned, thrilled with the prospect of having Aya on his couch for the entire evening. Because of their argument, it would be weeks, or even months, before he could risk making any kind of move on Aya again, but it was nice to be near the man, anyway.

"About my sister…" Aya began quietly, looking down at the table.

"Look; let's just forget about it, all right?" Yohji offered with a strained grin. "It's none of my business. I mean, whether you see her or not, it's your decision, right?"

"I want to thank you."

"You want to…?"

"I was being selfish staying away just because of my own self-loathing. But, at the same time, I feel as if it's selfish of me to try to involve myself in her life after everything…it would break her heart to know what I've become. The brother she knew is dead. Ran is dead." He grimaced, still refusing to meet Yohji's eyes. "It's a…difficult situation."

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't?"

"You always did understand me. I don't know why it still surprises me." Aya looked up at last, eyes pleading for something Yohji couldn't name. "I called her."

"You…?"

"We didn't speak for long, and I refused to meet with her, but at least I called, right? It was…really, _really_ good to hear her voice again."

Yohji reached across the table to cover Aya's hand with his own.

"I'm proud of you." He said quietly.

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not! I really am…proud."

"Are you finished eating?" Aya demanded, looking away again. "We should start one of those movies if we're to have any hope of finishing more than one tonight." He pulled his hand away from Yohji's and stood, gathering up their dishes.

As Aya set up the movie, Yohji took a blanket down from the linen closet. Without discussion, the two cuddled under it together on the couch to watch the movie.

It was amazing sometimes that Aya could do such "couple-ish" things without thought, yet was still oblivious as to what was going on. He had no idea how Yohji really felt and now, thanks to their argument, it would be at_ least _another month before Yohji could dream of enlightening him.

He knew the moment the opening credits began that Aya would hate the movie. It did, however, happen to be one of Yohji's favorites. Was it possible that the cold and unfriendly leader of Weiss had watched him enough during their time as teammates to have discovered things about him which he had never spoken about? Yohji had watched Aya that way, certainly.

But was it even possible…?

"What's wrong?" Aya asked, lifting his head to look at him. "You don't like this one?"

"No, I…" _have three copies in my movie collection and you probably damn well know it._ "…It's fine."

Aya grunted and settled his head against Yohji's shoulder, seemingly completely bored. His hand rested lightly atop Yohji's thigh, but since he didn't seem to have noticed it, the blonde chose not to enlighten him.

They settled into a silence that was both comfortable and, in Aya's case, bored. That was fine, in Yohji's opinion. You couldn't ever be _really_ close to someone unless you were comfortable enough that you didn't feel the need to entertain them.

It was a lesson Asuka had taught him – and something which he had never experienced with anyone but her until Aya had re-entered his life.

Ignoring any feelings of sadness the thought brought to him, Yohji set to mentally plotting out just when and how to put the moves on Aya. It would have been easier to think up his battle strategy if he'd had a calendar with him, but then Aya might have become suspicious.

By the time the movie had reached its halfway point, he thought he may have formulated a strategy that would win Aya over within a month and a half.

Then, abruptly, he was forced to throw all his plans out the window.

* * *

Despite the sounds of numerous loud explosions and the fact that the actors kept shouting curses every few moments, Aya was almost dozing against Yohji. He couldn't help it, really. He hadn't been sleeping well since their fight (_why_ was something he didn't really want to think about) and Yohji was so very warm and made him feel so content.

And it felt so amazingly _good_ to have everything repaired between them. So good, in fact, that it was almost easy to ignore the lust that now reared its tempting head whenever he was around his teammate.

Aya had forced himself to accept the fact he lusted after his former teammate, just as he had forced himself to accept that his feelings did, indeed, go much deeper than lust. Thanks to their argument, he's had more than enough time to think about it, too. Despite his best efforts at ignoring the truth, he had forced himself to admit that there was _something_ he felt for Yohji that went farther than physical attraction.

Yohji made him feel safe and…accepted. There was simply no other way to describe it. Yohji made him almost forget his past.

Aya needed that.

Aya needed _Yohji._

Lifting his head from the comforting strength of his companion's shoulder, Aya glanced at the other man. Yohji had been silent since the movie had started, fully engrossed in the rather asinine storyline. Aya wished _he_ could lose himself so easily, and for a moment he felt a flash of affectionate envy.

From his position, Aya found he had a perfect view of Yohji's strong, chiseled jaw. The blonde hadn't shaved, and darkly golden stubble dotted his tanned skin like sprinkles in icing, and Aya had to draw back a little to avoid the sudden, embarrassing urge to lick Yohji's warm, golden skin.

He managed to restrain himself, but his hand moved as if of its own accord, fingertips brushing the light stubble along Yohji's jaw line.

Yohji, when he had his attention focused on something so intently, was nearly impossible to pull away. There was a time that stood out quite strongly in Aya's memory in which Omi had actually had to douse the blonde with a bucket of water to get his attention away from one of those horrible movies of his.

The moment Aya touched him, though, Yohji's head turned. Aya's fingertips slid along his skin as he moved, until they were resting against the surprising softness of the other man's lips. Yohji's eyes were deep and solemn and unlike anything Aya had ever seen. There was…fear…there. And hope. And something Aya didn't dare give name to.

"You don't like the movie?" Yohji asked, his attempt at humor falling hollow. His voice seemed almost too quiet, too intimate. Aya moved his hand, finding the movement of Yohji's lips against his fingertips far too distracting. He slid his palm against Yohji's cheek.

Yohji leaned forward, the long strands of his soft, golden hair sliding slowly through Aya fingers.

His lips brushed Aya's – gentle, hesitant. Aya closed his eyes and allowed it to happen, feeling very young and inexperienced as Yohji pressed him backwards into the couch. The blonde's mouth pressed upon his more forcefully as Aya's quiet acceptance of the kiss encouraged him.

A hand slipped under his shirt and he gasped at the unexpected feel of the other man's skin against his own, though all Yohji did was rest his hand against his abdomen. The former playboy took the opportunity presented by Aya's gasp to slip his tongue into his mouth, to deepen the kiss so carefully and expertly as to drive all thought from Aya's mind.

Yohji's hands slid around, both now under Aya's shirt and against his back, pressing him upwards into the blonde's long, lean body.

Yohji's lips broke from his, leaving him breathless and dazed as the hot, warm mouth moved to his jaw, and then to his neck.

Aya pressed himself closer, lost to the sensations, the unfamiliar yearnings being awoken within him. He barely registered the hand directing one of his legs to wrap around a slim hip, the mouth feeding hungrily off his neck, the hardness pressed tightly against him. Yohji was completely assaulting his senses. The smell of his hair, the feel of his skin, the taste of his lips.

Yohji's mouth left his neck and moved to his lips, hungrier now, more urgent. Aya responded as much as he was able, arching himself against the other man, holding him as tightly as he could.

Yohji's mouth left his again and he wanted it back, wanted it terribly, even as his lips brushed his ear.

"_Gods_, Aya." The blonde whispered, pressing close. "I've wanted this for so _long_."

The words grounded him, brought him back to reality. No longer riding his emotions and the sensations making every fiber of his being burn with desire, he was forced to return to himself suddenly, unfairly.

He was lying on the couch, Yohji atop him, lips once more against his neck. Aya's shirt had been pushed up, exposing his abdomen in a long, clean line. His pants had been unfastened, and he tried to remember when that had happened as one of Yohji's hands slid down the back of his jeans.

"Yohji…"

The blonde moaned, lips moving downward to nibble on his collar bone.

Aya put his hands on Yohji's shoulders and pushed, forcing the man up. Having the taller man sitting atop his hips, straddling him most comfortably, did _not_ help.

"What's wrong?" Yohji asked, looking wild and beautiful and so achingly available. Aya began pushing himself up on his elbows, forcing Yohji to get off as he sat up. "Aya?"

He stood and turned away, straightening his clothing and fighting to gain some composure.

"Aya? What happened? Come back."

"We can't do this, Kudoh."

Silence passed between them for a terrible, long moment. Aya knew the coldness in his voice had hurt the other man, but he would not take it back.

"I should leave." The redhead decided finally.

"Aya…"

"I can't let you do this, Yohji. Or I won't. You'll hate yourself tomorrow if this happens."

"_No_, Aya…"

Moving toward the door hurt, but he forced himself to do it.

There was someone Yohji loved, he reminded himself. Someone Yohji cared so much for that he had made himself celibate waiting for him. Aya couldn't let himself ruin that – he had never seen Yohji so serious as he had been the day he had spoken about the one he loved. Aya _couldn't_ let the way he felt about the man destroy what Yohji had been working so hard for.

Hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Yohji with a smile that felt sad.

"You deserve to be with the person you love, Yohji." He said quietly. "If I let you do this, I'll ruin everything for you."

"Damn it! You don't understand!"

"Think about the love you're waiting for. You can't sacrifice that for one meaningless fuck with me."

He left before he began to cry.

* * *

Aya Fujimiya was not a man who had cried often in his life, although he seemed to be doing it quite often lately.

He supposed he had cried when he had been a child. He _knew_ he had wept when his family had been taken away from him. He had certainly shed a tear when he had left Japan, Weiss, and his sister for what he had thought to be forever.

When he returned to his apartment that night, Aya wept once more.

He wept because he finally realized how much he cared for Yohji, and that he could never have him. He wept because he had come so horrifyingly close to ruining _everything_ for the man.

He wanted Yohji, but he wanted the blonde's happiness even more.

Two o'clock in the morning, his phone began to ring. He let it ring at least seventeen times before answering.

"Kudoh."

"Nice psychic abilities, there."

"Who else would it be?"

"Have you been crying?"

"No."

"You're lying. I can always tell when you lie."

Aya sighed heavily, throwing an arm across his eyes.

"What do you want, Kudoh?"

"I want to talk to you about what almost happened."

"No. I don't want to talk about it."

"Aya…"

"Let me clarify. I _won't_ talk about it."

There was a silence. Finally Yohji heaved a heavy sigh of his own.

"Fine." He agreed, defeated. "Just answer me one thing, okay? Aya?"

"Fine." He agreed.

"Are we still friends?"

Aya let out the breath he had been holding.

"I would really like that, Yohji."

"Me too."

Aya smiled a little, drawing his eye from his eyes.

"Good." He breathed.

A silence passed between them over the line, and while not the kind of comfortable, safe silence he was accustomed to sharing with the blonde, neither was it hostile or awkward.

"You wanna do something next Friday?" Yohji asked at last.

Aya found himself smiling a little more.

"Yeah." He answered. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

Aya Fujimiya felt very much like throwing his desk chair through the window, and perhaps jumping out after it.

The young boy he had been given sole authority over sat in a chair across from his desk glaring mulishly at him, his band mates on either side of him and also trying to glare the former assassin into submission.

The band called itself by some nonsense name Aya had given up trying to remember. Their sound was too strange and unique to ever catch on. They never would have caught the attention of any talent agent at all had the boy, who wasn't even the band's lead singer, not had such an amazing voice.

"I'm not doing anything without my band." The boy insisted stubbornly. Initially, his protests had been weak. They had strengthened at the urging of his friends, who had no doubt convinced him that the label would do anything to keep him.

"We only want you." Aya informed him coolly, feeling as if he had already repeated those words thousands of times today. "You signed a contract. There's nothing you can do about it."

"I didn't know what I was signing!"

Aya fought the urge to use the full-force of his glare and frighten the boy out of his stupidity. "It was _your_ responsibility to read the contract before signing."

A polite tap came at his door just a moment before his secretary stuck her head in.

"Fujimiya-san, Kudoh-san is here to see you."

He glanced at the clock and nearly cursed. He hadn't realized how late it was.

"Thank you; tell him I'll be finished in a few moments." He turned his attention back to the "band" before him.

"You are a _bad_ man." The girl, the actual lead singer of the band, informed him angrily. "You tricked him into signing to take advantage of him!"

Aya met her gaze unflinchingly.

"You sing like a drunken banshee." He informed her coldly. "And your so-called band plays their instruments like a group of brain-dead monkeys. We are not interested in the rest of you." He rose, deciding that the meeting was over. "You will show up for recording on Monday," he informed the boy, ignoring the rest, "Or I will see you in court."

"Bastard." The girl hissed as he brushed past the group, leaving his office first.

Yohji stood outside his office chatting happily with Satoshi Morita. Without thinking, Aya moved to hug the blonde.

Had he paused to think about it, he wouldn't have done it.

After their little…mistake…last week, hugging was just a little too awkward. Not to mention Morita was right there.

And Aya didn't want to seem the type who needed a hug after a particularly trying day.

For a moment, standing awkwardly in Yohji's arms, he thought he felt the gentle brush of lips against his temple.

Abruptly, Yohji pulled away. He left one arm around Aya, an uncomfortable reminder that the entire office thought they were dating. They would have to make it a point to "break up" soon.

Then Yohji would have more time to pursue the man he _really_ loved.

"Well, I got what I came here for." The blonde announced, laughter in his voice. Morita was asking what they had planned for the evening when the door to Aya's office opened and the "band" came out.

The lead singer's lip curled into a sneer as her eye fell on him and Yohji.

"_Fags_." She hissed, leading her group past.

Aya grasped Yohji's wrist hard enough to hurt, and the blonde wisely changed his mind about commenting.

"There's a restaurant opening and we're going to check it out." Aya informed Morita, ignoring the kids completely.

"That should be fun." The rotund man commented.

Aya stood to chat a while longer, waiting until the "band" had left before saying his goodbyes and leading Yohji away.

"Where are you parked?" He asked as they stepped out into the still-bright sunlight.

"I took a cab." The blonde answered, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes. "You're driving tonight."

"Me?"

"What's wrong with you driving? Oh. Oh…nevermind. I get it."

"Get what?" He glared.

Yohji laughed, and Aya knew by his tone that he was teasing.

He also knew that whatever his companion was about to say had about a ninety-five percent chance of pissing him off.

"What?" He demanded.

"You're a little uke boy!" Yohji crowed.

Aya punched him.

* * *

To be continued

Well, damn.

(Blinks innocently.)

What?

Review please.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**RANMA** - All in good time, my dear. All in good time.

**kirai - **I'm very mean to them. But I'm mean to a lot of people. (giggle)

**Glynwulf - **I hope the wait wasn't too bad this time. Thanks!

**Moon without a Sun - **(flinches) You're going to hurt me, aren't you?


	9. A Harmless Wager

Happy Valentines Day, everyone. I hate this holiday, but I'm still giving you a present. Enjoy!

* * *

The movie they had chosen was nearly deserted, and while somewhat entertaining (at least in Yohji's opinion) it was also terribly transparent.

"I know how this is going to end." Yohji sighed at last. "The father is the killer."

"That's too obvious." Aya answered, not bothering to look at him. Yohji found he was very much missing the closeness they had shared prior to the evening on his couch. Before the incident, Yohji had had Aya to the point where the redhead would nearly always lay his head against Yohji's shoulder during a movie.

Now it seemed as if there were miles between them.

And unfortunately, Aya would not be persuaded to speak about what had happened between them. Yohji wasn't brave enough to attempt to force the issue and risk Aya storming away in fury.

He had to be patient. He would have another chance one day, but _only_ if he was patient.

"Let's make it a bet." Yohji decided. Someone behind him began making shushing noises.

Aya was silent a moment, then shifted slightly closer.

"What mind of bet?" He whispered, putting his head near Yohji's so that they could speak without disturbing anyone.

Grinning, Yohji turned his lips into the delicate shell of Aya's ear and put an arm around the smaller man, enjoying having him close once more.

"Whoever is right gets to choose what we do next week – these movies just keep getting worse and worse."

His grin only grew as he caught Aya shiver at the feel of his breath against his skin. The redhead nodded once, briskly, and pulled away.

* * *

A week later, Friday once more. Yohji had won the bet.

Understandably, Yohji was in a very good mood as he dressed for the night's activities. He had made little progress with his former leader over the course of the week, but he could not allow himself to become depressed over what he had lost because of the irrepressible hope rising within him. It was going to be a good night. It _had_ to be.

He reminded himself that _Aya_ had been the one to initiate what had happened that night on the couch by caressing Yohji's cheek. Yohji could still clearly remember the amazing intensity and emotion which had been in his companion's eyes that night.

Aya felt something for him, that much was wonderfully, blessedly clear. Aya had _wanted_ him.

It still haunted Yohji; how sweet Aya had tasted, how _wonderful_ his body had felt beneath him.

There had to be _something_ there.

Yohji was taking great care with his appearance for the evening. If Aya wanted to resist his attraction for the blonde, then said blonde was going to make it as difficult for him as possible.

He had bought a brand new pair of leather pants, and they were tighter, and rested lower on his hips, than any other pair he owned. After some debate he had chosen to wear a black fishnet top and long leather duster. He had also decided to leave his hair down, brushing it until it formed a hazy golden halo around his face.

Standing before the mirror in his apartment, he had felt pretty spiffy.

With a brazen grin for his reflection, he steeled himself for the furious glare he would receive from Aya when the redhead saw him.

He also prepared himself for the fight he knew he would have on his hands when he tried to persuade the smaller man to dress appropriately for their destination.

All his arguments, and every other thought as well, flew out of his mind some moments later when Aya opened the door.

Red pants (was that satin?) that looked poured on. A black, long sleeved shirt that was even tighter. A black,. Silver studded thing around his neck that could only be called a collar.

"What's your problem?" The smaller man glared.

Yohji had to try several times before he succeeded in picking his jaw up off the floor.

"Nothing." He lied lamely. "Are you ready?"

A sharp nod.

"Let me get my coat."

* * *

The club Yohji had chosen was new. Had only, in fact, opened two weeks ago – and thus was busier than it might have been. Yohji had been dying to do. (He had actually been invited to the opening by the owner, an ex-girlfriend, but had been unwilling to accept the invitation, as the young woman would have undoubtedly expected the two of them to hook up afterwards.)

It was as crowded and noisy as he had expected as they walked in, leading Aya by a hand resting at the small of his back.

He could tell that Aya was already hating it. Yohji swore to himself that they would only stay for a little while. This was too good a chance to show off the redhead though; many of Yohji's friends and former lovers would be there that night.

Somehow they managed to find a place to sit at the bar – all the tables had been taken. They ordered their drinks and Yohji settled back to people-watch until he was brave enough to ask Aya to dance.

"Having fun yet?" He asked, struggling to be heard over the music.

Aya scowled at him. "Why does it have to be so _loud_?"

Yohji laughed and turned to take his drink. He heard someone call his name and waved to the rowdy (drunk) group sitting at a corner booth.

"Friends of mine," he told Aya, "Come on."

Aya shook his head. He had his arms crossed and was leaning as close to the bar as he could, trying not to touch anyone or anything.

"Go ahead. I'll wait here."

Yohji would have attempted to bully him into coming, but realized almost too late just how very uncomfortable the smaller man was. It was more than just not liking the party scene – Aya was claustrophobic around crowds.

"We'll leave right after I talk to them," he promised with a smile, reaching out to tug playfully on a lock of Aya's hair. "We'll go do something else."

If anything, Aya paled.

"No, we don't have to," he scowled, "I'm not _that_ selfish, Kudoh."

"But I can't have any fun if I know you aren't enjoying youself." He pointed out logically.

Aya began to glare.

"It has to be boring for you – spending so much time with a recluse like me. You deserve this, so go. Have fun. I'll be here when you're done."

Still Yohji hesitated.

"I'll go talk to my friends, you and I will dance a few songs, _then_ we'll leave." He decided. "Is that okay?"

Aya nodded once, sharply, and turned away.

"Fine." He mumbled.

The table was still waving him over with enthusiasm. Reluctantly, Yohji left.

He quickly found that he could concentrate neither on the laughter nor the conversation of his companions, and kept catching himself looking back at Aya.

Yohji had partied with this group often, even slept with most of them, if those drunken memories were anything to go by – but he couldn't seem to remember any of their names.

A foreign man had taken Yohji's seat next to Aya at the bar, and the blonde abruptly decided that he'd had enough of visiting with his former party pals.

He left them without even a word of departure.

His eyes narrowed as he noticed that the strange man had placed his hand on Aya's leg and was leaning in close, speaking to him in quiet tones. Aya's nose wrinkled and he pulled back as he made some blank-faced answer – a sure indication that the man's breath reeked of alcohol. Eyes bearing a coldness Yohji could clearly see even from how far away he was, Aya dispassionately removed the offending hand from his leg. By the time Yohji reached his side, Aya was nearly the mirror image of the killer he had once been.

"Dance?" The blonde asked over the music as he held out his hand to his friend. Aya took it, and only Yohji – who had begun at last to understand the quiet man – would have been able to tell that he was relieved to see him.

"You're too good for me, but not that cheap whore?" The other man called after them.

Yohji turned Aya to face him and pulled him close despite the fast tempo of the song. Aya, for a wonder, pressed even closer, laying his head against the other man's chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. _Clinging_, Yohji would have said, had he been brave enough.

"_Now_ are you ready to leave?" Yohji asked gently, pressing his lips to the top of the smaller man's head.

"I'm sorry." Aya murmured back. "I promised myself I wouldn't ruin your evening."

"You aren't ruining it." Yohji assured him, shocked that he would have ever thought something like that. "You're still here, aren't you?"

Reluctantly, Yohji pulled back, smiling down at Aya as if he could manage to convey with his eyes just how important the man was to him. Aya wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Let's go." Yohji suggested softly.

Aya nodded, and even allowed Yohji to walk with his arm around him. The small man was more bothered than he would ever freely admit, yet the blonde saw it, anyway.

He found that he did not want to move away from Aya's side, and so he walked him to the passenger seat of the car and opened the door for him.

Aya turned to face him, and it seemed so natural to bend and brush his lips against the smaller man's.

"_Yohji_…"

Whatever Aya had been about to say was lost. A hand fisted in the back of Yohji's jacket, pulling him forcefully away from the redhead. Aya barely had time to register the drunk foreigner from the bar before a fist connected with his jaw.

The man outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. The next thing Yohji was aware of, he was on the ground and black spots were dotting his vision. The man was advancing on Aya, whose eyes had gone cold and dangerous.

Aya could handle himself, Yohji knew.

Nevertheless, the blonde sprang to his feet and spun the man around, imagining his fist going through the back of the man's skull as he punched him.

His fist _didn't_ go through the man's skull. In fact, the damned drunk didn't even fall – though by the blood on his face Yohji was fairly certain that he had succeeded in breaking the man's nose.

"I can handle it, Kudoh."

Yohji didn't listen, meeting the drunk's glare furiously.

"I saw 'em first." The man slurred.

"He's _mine_, asshole."

Yohji lunged.

It seemed a very long time before Aya and some people from the club managed to pull the two apart. Aya agreed to leave before the police were called and snatched Yohji's keys from him, shoving him into the passenger seat with a glare.

Silence passed between them for long enough to alert Yohji to the fact that he was in trouble. Aya was _pissed_.

"I'm sorry." He attempted at last, wincing as Aya narrowly cut off another driver.

Aya's voice was like ice.

"I could have taken care of him."

"I know, but I – _shit_! Aya, that was a fuckin' _red_ light!"

"I'm not a child." Aya countered, raising his voice. Yohji wasn't sure he'd ever seen him so angry before. "I'm not helpless. And I'm sure as _hell_ not your responsibility."

"_Responsibility_?" Yohji felt his own anger rising in response. "Gods, Aya! Is _that_ what you think?"

"You treat me like some stupid, defensless, bimbo girlfriend!"

"You aren't – _shit!_"

Aya had slammed on the breaks and Yohji was abruptly thrown against the restraint of the seat belt. They were at a red light.

Aya was trembling visibly, his breathing labored. He seemed to be trying to grasp at some unbelievable thought. Slowly he turned to face Yohji, his eyes huge.

"That's it, isn't it?" He demanded. "All this time – you've been acting like we were dating."

"Well…"

Aya paled.

"Yohji…" His voice was so quiet now, so hollow. "Yohji…_are_ we dating?"

He winced, and that was all the answer the small redhead really needed. Aya turned back to face the road, staring blankly at nothing. The light changed and he didn't move. Car horns behind them began blaring, and he didn't flinch.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." Yohji offered at last.

Aya took several deep breaths, blinking slowly. He drove through the light just as it was turning yellow.

"Aya?" Yohji asked after a stretch of silence that seemed to have lasted years.

"_What_. Do you mean. You hoped I wouldn't _notice_?" His companion bit out at last.

Yohji shivered at the ice in his voice.

"Shit, man. I didn't mean it the way it sounds." He mumbled miserably, slouching down in his seat.

"Then _how_," he demanded, "Did you mean it?"

"_Damn_ it, Aya!"

"No, Kudoh. Tell me. I want to know."

Yohji tried desperately to think of something, _anything_ to say. He had the feeling that the longer he stayed silent, the deeper hole he dug for himself.

Aya pulled into a random parking lot and turned off the engine, flipping on the overhead light as he turned to face Yohji.

"Go ahead." He ordered coldly. "Explain it to me, Yohji. I've got nothing to distract me now. Explain or get out."

"You can't kick me out of my own car."

Aya's lips compressed into a hard, thin line.

"You have ten seconds, Kudoh."

He sighed and looked away, unable to face that accusing glare.

"Look…back when all this first started…you would never have agreed to dating me."

"You don't know that."

"Aya, be honest, will you? At least _I'm_ trying."

"_Now_."

"Now." Yohji acknowledged.

Another stretch of silence. Cold, furious.

"What about all that you told me about reforming, then?" Aya demanded at last. "Abouyt being in love and wanting to settle down? Was that all bullshit?"

"Of course not. You're being dim now."

"Kudoh, you've already pissed me off." Aya warned.

"I'm _not_ lying, Aya, I _swear_ I'm not. I've been with the man I love all along."

"So you've been two-timing him?"

"Aya, really! When would I have had the time?" He put a hand on the smaller man's knee, and noticed somewhere far back in his mind that the pants really _were_ satin. "You're the only one I've seen in months." He whispered.

"_Don't_, Kudoh." He was staring at the hand resting on his knee as if he thought it to be a snake about to strike him. He remained as motionless as stone. His voice had come out strained and pleading.

"I've wanted you since the day we met, but it's _more_ than that now, Aya." He said as forcefully as he could, begging Aya to listen – to believe him. "I love you."

"No."

"You don't have to ever return my feelings; being near you is all I need."

Aya shook his head wordlessly, still staring at Yohji's hand.

"Switch seats with me." Yohji offered with a sigh. "I'll drive us home."

Another shake of the head. Aya started the car once more.

* * *

The small man was still silent as Yohji walked him to his door. He hadn't told him not to; Yohji intended to follow him until expressly forbidden to continue.

The redhead's hand shook as he slid his keys into the lock, but he offered a ferocious glare when Yohji tried to help him.

"You need to come in," Aya commanded suddenly, coldly. "So that I can make sure you aren't injured."

"Aya…"

"_Don't_ _say my name like that."_

"Like what?"

Silent, Aya passed into his apartment. He hung his keys on a small hook near the door, and began heading for the bathroom.

"Take off your shirt and wait for me in the kitchen."

Yohji watched him go, fear gripping him. He needed to be careful – but he had no idea what was going through his former leader's mind. There had been a time when an upset Aya would have been just as likely to kill him as to dress his wounds.

Yohji removed his shirt and slid into a chair.

* * *

Aya stopped short at the sight of Yohji, shirtless, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs.

It wasn't lust that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look like hell." He said before he could stop himself.

Yohji smiled a little, eyes wary. Careful. Did he not feel the large bruises forming all over his torso? His entire face would be purple by tomorrow. Surely, at the very least, he had a headache.

"You look like an angel." The blonde answered softly.

Aya scowled, unable – unwilling – to think about _that_ yet.

"Don't you hurt?" He demanded at last.

"I'll worry about that once I'm sure that you aren't mad at me."

"Idiot." He glared, moving to inspect Yohji.

There was really nothing he could do for the bruises, but there were numerous scratches down his back from when he had fallen and skidded against the pavement. Picking bits of gravel out of the cuts, Aya set to cleaning the shallow wounds.

"You can't ignore this, Aya."

"I can sure as hell try."

"I said I loved you."

"You say that to everyone you want to fuck."

"_Aya_…"

He shivered involuntarily at the longing and love put into that one word as Yohji pulled him around to stand in front of him.

"Don't…"

"Stop it, Aya." Yohji placed his hands on Aya's slim hips, leaning forward to rest his head against the flat planes of his stomach. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" He demanded in a hoarse whisper. "You know now. There's no more hiding. I can't rest until this is settled between us."

"Yohji…"

"I _love_ you." He whispered. "I love _you_. I can't live without you…or I don't want to try, anyway. _Please_, just let me be with you."

He buried his hands in the blonde's hair, hands moving as if of their own accord.

"I don't love you, Yohji." He protested.

"You don't have to; just let me be near you. Gods, Aya, don't take this away from me. _Please_."

He slid his hands through the man's hair and Yohji tilted his head back with the movement, eyes closed. Aya stared down at him, and knew that he didn't want to lose what they had, either.

"As long as you understand…" He said finally, unable to stop himself from bending to brush his lips gently against the other man's.

"_Yes_," Yohji promised, "I understand."

Yohji's hands slid lower as the blonde pressed forward to deepen the kiss, pulling Aya down into his lap. The smaller man wrapped his arms around Yohji's neck and closed his eyes, reluctantly surrendering himself to the gentle persuasion of Yohji's mouth. The former playboy's hands came to rest at last at the small of his back, pressing their bodies close as Yohji's lips slipped to his jaw and Aya tilted his head back to allow him better access to the tender flesh.

Hands fisted in the back of his shirt and pulled. Aya drew back enough to let the blonde slide it over his head.

Yohji touched his skin lightly, reverently, a look of awe in his eyes.

"Gods but you're beautiful, Aya."

"This will never work." Aya breathed, arching against the other man as his mouth descended to his collar bone, warm and moist.

"Don't be such a pessimist." Yohji murmured against his skin, reaching for the front of his jeans.

Abruptly the blonde pulled away, hissing in pain. Belatedly Aya remembered the cuts on the other man's back, and realized that he had been digging his fingernails into the injured skin.

"Sorry."

Yohji began to laugh helplessly, hugging him close.

"You're such a bastard sometimes, Aya." He muttered fondly.

"I didn't do it on _purpose_."

"Should we move this to the bedroom?"

Aya pulled back, frowning.

"You knew all along that none of those flowers stood for friendship, didn't you?"

A small shrug, an impish smile. Yohji Kudoh was back.

"Got me."

"We can't do this." Aya decided.

Yohji paled, hands tightening convulsively on Aya.

"The relationship?"

"No, the sex." Aya answered gruffly, standing.

"Because I lied about the flowers?"

"Don't be an idiot."

Yohji followed him across the room and wrapped his arms around him from behind.

"Come on, bunny thong," he whispered affectionately, breath warm on the back of Aya's neck. "I'm not hurt _that_ badly."

"This is too fast."

"I'll be gentle."

Aya closed his eyes. He wanted Yohji so much, had wanted him for _so_ long…

"I'm not ready. This is happening too quickly." He leaned back into Yohji's arms, secretly mourning his decision. His lust for Yohji was nearly all-consuming – if he couldn't find some degree of control, he would be consumed. "Can you give me time?"

"Anything for you, bunny thong."

"And stop calling me that."

"Anything except that." Yohji held him a moment longer before giving him a tight squeeze and releasing him. He smiled softly as Aya turned to face him, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Call me and we'll see."

"I do love you, Aya."

Aya sighed, allowing himself a small smile.

"We'll see about that, too."

* * *

To Be Continued

Happy Valentines Day, everyone.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**kirai - **Thanks so much! Yes, Aya can be a bit difficult at times. Will you forgive him?

**talietim69** - Aw, thanks. I hope you're not too disapointed that the time has come at last. On a side note though, the tale is far from over.

**amethyst rulzz** - Yay! I love fans!

**morningglory** - there you go. Likies?


	10. Another Wager

In one fell swoop, I am updating everything I have today. Bwahahaha. For those of you who have me on your alerts, sorry for all the e-mails ff will send you.

* * *

Bright and early, six a.m., the phone began to ring.

Aya wasn't surprised in the least.

"Yohji." He stated, not waiting for the other man to speak.

"How did you know?"

Aya found himself smiling and quickly wiped the expression from his face, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against his pillows.

"I know you." He answered at last.

"Can I tell you something, bunny thong?"

"You have a death wish, don't you?"

"I feel like shit."

Another smile creapt up on him. He pushed it back down quickly.

"I knew you would." He informed him, amusement plain in his voice. "That man was at least twice your size, dumbass."

"Truthfully, I think picking a fight with a locomotive may have been a wiser choice."

"I think you're right."

"Can I see you today?"

"Yohji…"

"What? What's the problem?"

He hesitated.

"I've never been in this kind of relationship before. You know that, Yohji."

"Yeah? So what? You've got a good guide, baby. I'll teach you _everything_ you need to know, I promise."

He shivered; there was something impossibly intimate about lying in bed and talking to Yohji, even if it was only over the phone. This time, it was impossible for him to kill his smile.

"I would love for you to teach me, Yohji," he confided, surprised at how warm and gentle his voice sounded. "But I want to slow down."

"Slow down? We've been dating for months!"

"But I didn't know we were dating," he pointed out. "I'm not used to the idea yet."

"You weren't complaining when you had your tongue shoved down my throat." He blonde said petulantly.

"I apologize. If it's too difficult for you, we don't have to kiss at all until I'm ready to go all the way."

It was surreal, Aya decided as he listened to Yohji sputter. He laughed silently to himself, covering his eyes with a hand as he thought about how strange it was to be calmly teasing Yohji about sex. Even stranger was that he believed without a doubt that the blonde thought he loved him.

"You teasing bastard." Yohji seethed, catching on at last.

The truth would be even more upsetting to the blonde. Aya would love to see his reaction if Yohji ever realized that Aya had been lusting for him for weeks and that now, when at last presented with the opportunity to have him, Aya was insisting they wait. His own contradictions were driving him crazy, but he was…_terrified_.

"I need to get used to the idea, first, that's all," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. Fantasy was one thing – reality was much more frightening. "Can you date someone for real without getting sex?"

"I guess I'm going to have to, aren't I?"

"Don't pout; it's childish."

"How long are we talking here, Aya?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, not to me, but little Yohji is very disappointed. I have to give him some kind of time estimate, or he'll never forgive me."

Aya sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Honestly, Yohji, I really don't care if your dick gets angry at you or not."

"Shhh; it can hear you."

"If you're going to be stupid, then I'm hanging up."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Silence for a long moment. "So," Yohji drawled finally, "When are you going to tell Bob that he needs to move out?"

Aya, who had made the mistake of relaxing during the silence, sat up suddenly.

"_What?_"

"Well, there's only really room for one of us up there. I hope."

It was Aya's turn to sputter indignantly, forced to listen as Yohji's confident, masculine laughter filled the line.

"And who says I'm going to be on the bottom?" He demanded at last.

"We can try any position you want, bunny thong, but it's still going to be _me_ inside _you_."

A part of Aya reared up in righteous fury; he had been the leader of Weiss, after all. He was the responsible one. The grownup one. The trustworthy one.

The rest of Aya was distracted by the sudden, rather detailed mental images Yohji's words and tone had inspired.

"We'll discuss this later." He stated finally, voice sharp despite his fear. It was inconceivable how the damned man could affect him in such a way.

Not to mention it wasn't _fair_.

"So I called." Yohji stated. "Can I see you today?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Why?"

"I warned you not to be stupid."

He hung up, the sound of the blonde's laughter ringing in his ears.

Less than ten minutes later, Yohji was at his door.

"I'm taking you to breakfast." He announced cheerily.

The bruising on his face was completely gone. Not really thinking about it, Aya reached forward to touch him, and Yohji jerked back with a hiss of pain.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

"I just wanted to look sexy for you, baby."

Aya glared, effectively wiping the smirk from his former teammate's face. When they had been assassins they had often used makeup to hide evidence of injuries from flower shop customers. The fact Yohji was still using the technique meant that those bruises had to have been some pretty interesting colors.

"When we get back, you're washing that off so that I can get a look at you." Aya commanded coldly. Maybe the drugstore down the street would carry some kind of bruise ointment.

"You don't think I look sexified?"

Tight jeans, oversized red sweater.

Aya directed his gaze to the other man's face, glaring, and Yohji began to laugh – pleased with himself. How in hell how had the blonde ever learned to read Aya so well?

* * *

Yohji had not slept last night – he had found himself too terrified to close his eyes. He had tortured himself the entire night through, replaying his conversation with Aya over and over in his mind.

He'd had it all planned out, of course. In a month or two he had been planning to take Aya somewhere romantic where, holding his hand and looking deeply into his eyes, he would finally confess his feelings.

Done right, he felt that The Plan would have won him Aya's love forever. Done wrong, he would have lost him.

Well, it was certainly done now, and whether right or wrong Yohji had been helpless to do anything more than pace around his apartment and pray that Aya would give him a chance.

It appeared, at least, that Aya had decided he was willing to try. That, however, did nothing to set Yohji's mind at ease. He kept having to remind himself, quite forcefully, to be careful.

He was afraid that if he became too affectionate too quickly he would frighten Aya away.

But if he allowed things to remain as he had been, they might _never_ move their relationship to something more.

Unconsciously, Yohji made a quiet, frustrated sound.

Aya looked up over his menu, raising an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing…this place only carries one flavor syrup, that's all.

"You don't like syrup, Yohji."

"No, I don't…but it's not fair to only carry one flavor!"

A slow blink.

"You're making a stand for syrup justice?" he asked finally.

"Um…yeah."

Aya kicked him under the table.

"Stupid." The younger man grumbled, a small smile gracing his lips.

* * *

The boy's "band" were continuing to attempt to make trouble for Aya. Somehow they succeeded in convincing the boy that if he refused to sing during their scheduled recording sessions, then eventually the studio would have no choice but to bend and accept the entire group.

The boy, so young and nervous and naïve, didn't seem capable of understanding the term "breach of contract."

"Narumoto," Aya sighed, fighting a headache. Rubbing his temples, he carefully avoided looking at the boy seated across from him for fear his furious glare would prove traumatizing. "I like you." He continued. "I think you have talent. I think, despite your age, that you could become quite successful."

"Thank you." The boy blinked, hostility draining from his face with his surprise.

Aya finally did look up, and Narumoto paled and shrank back from the glare.

"You'll waste it all with your stupidity." He snapped. "All of your talent and potential are wasted if you keep up this behavior."

"But…"

He forced himself to gentle his voice, though compassion had been a difficult thing for him for a long time.

"I know your friends are important to you," he informed him, "But they're holding you back and threatening your future."

"But, Fujimiya-san…"

"We. Don't. Want. Them." The boy paled further under the sharp tone of his voice and the intensity of his glare. Aya had to force himself once more to tame his voice. "I'm already under pressure from my boss, Narumoto." He said as gently as he could manage. "He thinks that you're more trouble than you're worth. He wants to drop you completely."

"No!" The boy gasped.

Aya nodded. "I don't agree with him though. I don't know why, but I think you're worth my time." Plus, he didn't want to start all over with some other rude kid. The boy really did have talent, anyway.

"Thank you."

"Your friends, however, are _not_ worth my time."

He waited for several silent moments as the boy thought over his words.

A tap came at the door and his secretary stuck her head in.

"Fujimiya-san, you asked me to inform you when Kudoh-san arrived."

"Thank you," he nodded. The door closed after her quietly, and Aya took a few more moments to observe Narumoto. "I have the studio reserved for tomorrow," he said finally, rising. "And the band has agreed to come. I'm not sure if I will be able to persuade them to show up if you stand them up again. Nevertheless, it is your decision."

"Fujimiya-san?"

He stopped, meeting the boy's eyes.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. For…for what Jani called you last week."

Aya blinked in surprise, and it actually took him a moment to remember what the boy was even talking about.

"Thanks." He said at last, voice gruff, knowing he had been silent for too long. He hesitated only a moment before offering his hand to the boy, who shook it with a wide grin – seeming to have gained something from the exchange.

As promised, Yohji was in the reception area waiting for him. The lanky blonde was sitting in a chair reading a magazine, eyebrows slowly climbing to his hairline.

The magazine's cover story was "Twenty Tricks to Drive Him Wild."

"Taking notes?" Aya asked dryly, heat climbing into his face.

Yohji looked up, a wide grin spreading itself across his lips.

"Would you find it sexy if I…" he checked the magazine, "Took a satin ribbon and wrapped it around your - "

"Stop."

Still grinning, the blonde snapped his magazine shut and rose, holding out a hand. Aya allowed himself to be pulled into the other man's arms, a part of him still stunned that Yohji was no longer his pretend lover, but his real boyfriend.

Yohji tilted his chin up and kissed him, a light brush of lips so unexpected that Aya didn't have the chance to even attempt to stop him.

They would have to have a little talk about these public displays of affection.

Eventually.

"My secretary is watching." He hissed, seeing the look in Yohji's eyes and knowing the man was thainking about attempting a second, possibly deeper, kiss.

Yohji laughed and drew back, keeping only an arm around him as he gave a slight wave to the brilliantly blushing secretary.

"You take it easy now, ma'am."

Aya elbowed him as the blonde lead him to the elevator, fighting the urge to laugh.

Aya wasn't at all surprised when, once they reached the relative privacy of the elevators, he was turned to face Yohji once more, back pressed against the wall as the taller man's warm, moist mouth descended to cover his own with a fearful hunger.

"There are cameras in here." Aya managed to protest as Yohji began tugging to pull his shirt out of his pants.

"Then we might as well give those poor, bored security guards some entertainment." He murmured back playfully, falling to his knees and shoving his shirt up. Aya's protests died on his tongue, replaced by a strangled gasp, as the blonde's tongue darted wetly into his navel, teeth gently scraping against his skin.

"_Stop that_!" He hissed. Yohji only laughed.

Since their…discussion…on their relationship, Yohji had been doing all in his power to keep Aya as off balance as possible. They had agreed to wait until Aya was ready to become truly physical, and Yohji had promised not to pressure him.

But the former playboy did not see pouncing on Aya and kissing him breathless as "pressure."

Aya was on to his little game, but unable to fight him. _Unwilling_ to fight him. Yohji's plan was simple yet effective; some days it seemed he was unable to keep his hands off the small swordsman, and refused to stop his assault until Aya was nearly to his breaking point, ready to beg.

Other days his touches and kisses were rare and soft, leaving him wanting more.

Pushing him to his breaking point, ready to beg.

And they had only been dating a week, officially.

At this rate…

Aya would have shuddered in fear – _he was not ready!­_ – but all conscious thought had already been lost.

"Stop." He managed again, more weakly than before, as he attempted unsuccessfully to push the blonde away.

No matter how heated Yohji grew, he had never moved below the belt. This was a little too close to that forbidden line; a little much, even for Yohji. If Aya succumbed, he would be consumed.

Did he want to be consumed?

"Yohji…"

The blonde looked up at him, trapping him with his eyes, and began to smirk slowly.

The elevator stopped unexpectedly. The doors opened.

Satoshi Morita gaped at them a moment as Yohji scrambled to his feet.

"I…think I'll take the next one." Morita decided, stepping back. Aya quickly pressed the button for the doors to close again.

The two men shared an unpleasant silence.

"Aya, I'm…"

"Thank you, Kudoh."

"What?"

Aya smiled grimly, crossing his arms.

"You've just proven to me why waiting is a good idea."

"What? _Aya!_"

"I can't trust you with that yet, obviously. Think about what could have happened had we been farther along in our relationship."

Yohji groaned. "So how many months have I pushed us back, then?"

Aya had to turn away to hide his amusement. "I don't know, Yohji." He decided breezily. "If you can't behave yourself in public, then I'm not sure there's really any hope for us."

Yohji grabbed his shoulders and spun him to face him once more. Aya could not entirely fight a smile as the other man's mouth descended to cover his own.

"Tell me you don't enjoy this." He hissed, failing to see that Aya was, at least partially, teasing him.

"I could take it or leave it." Aya mumbled back, reaching out to tangle his hands in Yohji's golden hair, smirking at his companion's astonished expression.

Yohji finally caught on.

"Sneaky bastard." He murmured, lowering his head once more.

The elevator doors opened once more, exposing them to the lobby. Aya drew back, removing Yohji's hand from his backside and holding it in his own as they left the elevator.

"We keep eating out like this and I'm going to get fat." Aya remarked dryly as they stepped out into the warm sunshine. The wind picked up, stealing said warmth, and Aya moved closer to his companion.

"I'll love you anyway." Yohji decided with a sigh. "I guess."

"Well, I appreciate the sacrifice."

Yohji laughed. His hand slipped out of Aya's so that he could wrap his arm around his waist and pull him closer to his side. Aya hadn't even realized he was shivering until he stopped.

"Masochistic bastard." Yohji m mumbled fondly, leaning in to brush his lips against his temple. "You've gotta get a thicker coat than this."

"Now Yohji, you can't do that. Which type of bastard am I – a sneaky bastard or a masochistic one?"

"You can't be both?"

He shook his head firmly. "You have to choose."

"How about if you're neither? How about if you're just my precious bunny thong?"

"I warned you about calling me that."

Yohji's hip knocked playfully against him. "What are you gonna' do about it, bunny thong?"

Aya put his own arm around Yohji, pinching him hard enough to make the other man hiss.

"Nothing yet." He answered. "But you should be warned that I'm keeping a list."

"A list?"

"Mmm. For every time you call me that, I add another day to your sentence."

"My sentence?"

"The amount of time you have to wait before I'll let you fuck me." He clarified.

"Don't call it that."

"Then what am I supposed to call it?"

"Making love."

Aya snorted.

Yohji pondered his words for a moment. "My sentence," he mused, "I like that. Reminds me of prison. And you _know_ what happens in prison."

"Riots?"

Yohji looked thoughtful again.

"You know," he decided finally, "It might just be worth it."

Aya actually missed a step.

"You would rather call me by that idiotic name than fuck me?" he demanded.

Yohji shrugged breezily. "Whatever you want me to believe, you're only human, bunny thong. Even you have to have a breaking point."

Aya glared.

"So you think I'll break before you reach the end of your sentence?" He asked dryly.

"Yeah, I do."

Aya smiled, grasping both of Yohji's hands in his own and going up on tiptoe to reach the blonde's ear.

"Care to make a wager on that?" He whispered, smile growing as he felt his companion shiver.

"Yeah, I do." Yohji whispered back. The two grinned madly at each other for a long moment. "Want to discuss this over lunch?" Yohji asked finally.

"Sounds like a plan." Aya agreed.

They began to walk again, Yohji's arm around Aya's waist, hand in the smaller man's back pocket.

Aya decided that that was just the way he liked it.

* * *

"The rules are simple." Yohji said with a grin over his menu a few moments later. He seemed very cheerful all of the sudden, and his little-boy grin was infectious.

"Oh?" Aya asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"All the rules are out the window except for one: whoever breaks first loses."

"What constitutes 'breaking'?" Aya asked.

A wicked grin.

"Begging, of course."

"I'm serious."

"And who says I'm not?"

Despite himself, Aya felt his smile return. It was a strange experience, being in such a light mood.

"All right," he agreed, "Fine. And what do I get when I win?"

"When? Oh no,no,no,no,no. _If_. If you win, Aya, my love, then…then I'll be on the bottom."

Aya snorted in disbelief.

"You're willing to risk your position of dominance?"

"Aya? You aren't going to win."

* * *

To Be Continued

Phew. Long chapter this time.

"The boy" has a name at last. Why didn't he earlier? No reason other than I was too lazy to give him one.

And yes, I know that Yohji decides to go slow and then the relationship gets a little hot and heavy. The thing with Aya and Yohji is, though it takes them a long time to get together, there's a lot of _passion_ between them. It's what makes the pairing so alluring. Last chapter was the halfway point for this fic, I think. There will be a sequel...but I won't be able to write it until I watch the rest of Gluhen. (I only have the first two DVDs.) If anyone knows of a good page with a really,really good summery and pictures on it, that would be a biggggggg help.

This is not a poll, but an opinion survey: Do you want a lemon? There's no guaruntee I'll go with the popular opinion, whatever it is, but I would like to know what everyone thinks. I've been debating it for weeks and have yet to have made a decision.

Questions, comments? Review button is right there. See ya next time!

**Response to Unsigned Reviews**:

**MM -** It's difficult to tell what Aya thinks. He's very difficult to control.

**Kirai - **thrilled that you've forgiven him. But how is Aya supposed to know what (romantic) love feels like when he's never allowed himself even the slightest possibility of feeling it? Yohji is just going to have to teach him. (Evil Grin.) As stated above, there will definitley be a part two. But part one isn't over yet - don't kill it too quickly!

**Moon without a Sun - **Squeefullness.

**CaT70** - If...if you _died_ from happiness...are you a zombie now? (Is frightened of zombies)

**talietim** - Thank you so much. As for when _it_ finally happens...I'm not saying anything yet. Of course it'll be Aya's first time though.

**amethyst rulzz** - Thankies!

**Miss Macabre** - Poor Bob. Hmm...Blame Moi Moi-chan, eh? Where is she hiding...

All right, thanks everyone! Hope to see ya next time!

Kit


	11. Fluffiness of Doom

No, I didn't forget about all of you. I've just been busy.

Warnings for this chapter? Sappy Aya. Fluff. So much fun. Sappy, fluffy fun.

Fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy fluffy

(Z)

It was so easy sometimes, when he was with Yohji, to forget.

Forget his pain, his past. Forget who he was "supposed" to be – the person he had made himself into – and be someone else.

He didn't know _who_ he was when he was with Yohji. He wasn't the cold and unfeeling weapon he had molded himself into after his sister's accident, but neither was he the same person he had been _before_ that tragedy had touched his life.

Whoever he was with Yohji though, he was _happy_

These thoughts had been going through Aya's head in an endless loop in the week since he and Yohji had made their little wager, as the small redhead began to recognize the strange change in himself and attempted to recognize just what said change was.

Yohji's love was…affecting…him.

Often lately, when he was alone, Aya would catch himself thinking about something Yohji had done or said, or remembering a particular look on the other man's face, and he would have to make a real, conscious effort to keep from smiling.

It was difficult, however, not to smile when he had been having such a good week. Work had proven surprisingly successful, as Narumoto had at last begun to show up for recordings, and not only was the boy always on time, but he had the grace to sound spectacular, too.

And then, once Aya got off work, there would be Yohji waiting for him, mind brimming with new and devious plots designed to make Aya "break" first. It was…amazing…to come home and find someone waiting there for him, smiling, with a warm hug and a comforting kiss.

_The kisses!_

Aya shifted, covering his mouth with his hand to hide a sudden smile.

He had never _imagined_…! Even as Ran, he had never once dared imagine he could feel this way. Green eyes haunted his days; knowing hands tormented his nights.

Every instinct was screaming at him. It was stupid to be giving himself over so freely to his emotions. Emotions led to pain. Yohji would hurt him. Yohji was beautiful and wild and spontaneous. He could have anyone he wanted – why would he ever want a damaged, grumpy, blood-stained man with no idea what he was doing?

Surely Yohji would soon realize what a huge mistake he was making. Surely he would grow tired of the fumbling of an inexperienced man and wish to seek out someone just as good and exciting and beautiful as he was.

Some days these thoughts would haunt him ceaselessly, an endless loop of pain and torment until, by the time his work day was over and he was headed home, he would have successfully convinced himself that it was true. That Yohji had, in fact, already begun to regret his decision to chase after him.

Then Aya would walk into his apartment and find that Yohji had broken in and was waiting for him with a wide grin and one of those hugs that warmed him through-and-through. His painful thoughts would then fly away as if they had never been and Aya would set himself to glaring and demanding that the other man stop breaking into his apartment and Yohji would laugh – a sound like warm honey sliding down his skin.

Aya wondered if it was possible that he actually loved Yohji.

He wondered how Yohji could possibly love _him_.

He realized he didn't care.

It was Friday, and Aya had barely been able to concentrate all day. The entire weekend stretched out before him like a beautiful promise – time in which he would have nothing to do but be with Yohji.

He didn't think that, by the time Monday rolled around, their bet would remain unresolved. Three times already since their wager had begun Yohji had come very close to getting what he wanted.

The first time had been Sunday evening. They had been on Aya's couch watching the news when Yohji had pounced, assaulting Aya's senses in a way that the redhead had been completely unprepared for. He would have agreed to anything Yohji wanted.

But the blonde's cell phone had begun to ring before things had gotten too out of hand, effectively shattering the spell.

The second time had been much more sneaky. Aya had prepared himself for another attack, but Yohji was much more devious than that.

Rather than attacking, the blonde had set to teasing Aya with light kisses and gentle caresses. This had lasted until Wednesday, when Aya had at last reached the end of his rope and attacked.

But they had been in Yohji's car and a policeman had kindly interrupted them before things went too far.

Thursday, Aya had thought himself prepared for everything – except what had actually happened. He had returned home from work to find that Yohji had once more broken into his apartment and had fixed him a romantic dinner.

While they ate, Yohji had sipped at his wine and, in full detail, calmly told Aya everything he wanted to do to him.

It still made Aya remember the look in his eyes, the slight smile to his sensuous lips. His words were still ringing in Aya's head, along with the images those words had brought to mind.

Yohji hadn't touched him except when he had kissed him goodnight, but Aya had almost – almost – gone after him and begged him to do the things he had been talking about.

No, Aya very much doubted that his chastity would survive the weekend.

But he was intent to put up a fight. It was time to go on the offensive and at least _try_ to make Yohji break first. He hadn't done anything, himself, yet; he felt awkward doing something like that when he had no previous experience.

But he would try. After Yohji's speech last night, Aya was certain he wouldn't mind losing the bet – but his pride demanded that he at last make an attempt to earn himself dominance.

His mind was full of plots and plans as he walked through the parking garage after work, arguing with himself over what had a possibility of working and what didn't. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even see the tall, lanky man leaning against his car until he was nearly there.

"Yohji."

"Yo," the blonde grinned. He was as beautiful and wild as ever in his tight jeans and a clinging t-shirt, his hair a lovely, curling mass around his face, dark glasses covering his eyes.

Aya wanted to rip those sunglasses off. He wanted to see Yohji's eyes.

For once, Aya didn't try to fight his initial impulse.

Yohji's eyes were bright with warmth and love. They only looked like that when he was looking at Aya, and the redhead wondered a moment at how he had ever missed that expression.

Yohji placed his hands on Aya's waist as he leaned down to kiss him, and Aya wondered how he had ever survived without those kisses.

When Yohji pulled back, Aya knew by the expression on his face alone that his little speech last night had merely been a small part of a bigger plan.

Aya didn't care. He pressed closer and closed his eyes, so comfortable, so happy to be in Yohji's arms.

"What's wrong?" Yohji asked softly.

"Nothing. I'm just really happy to see you."

Yohji's arms tightened around him and Aya knew that, whatever plans the other man had made, the blonde would never pull away. Yohji would hold him for however long he wanted.

Aya drew back at last, allowing himself a smile.

"Beautiful." Yohji grinned. "You take my breath away every time, bunny-thong."

Aya felt his smile fall away, replaced by a glare.

Yohji had the audacity to laugh.

(Z)

It was nice to get back to their little routine, Yohji reflected as he and Aya walked through the parking lot to the movie theatre. Their plans for the night had been chosen by Yohji for the specific purpose of making Aya feel comfortable and remind him that he was safe with Yohji.

He hoped the pale man had been thinking about his words last night. His speech had been part of his plot for breaking Aya, of course, but he had also wanted to make sure that Aya understood exactly what a physical relationship between the two of them would mean. Surely Aya had some understanding of sex, even if he never had experienced it, but Yohji suspected it was more of an academic knowledge, and the last thing he wanted of needed was to have the redhead stop at a crucial moment demanding explanations. ("Kudoh. What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?") Additionally, Yohji was certain that surprising the small man would lead to irreversible injury. ("You want to put that _where_?")

The movie itself was also part of his "master plan" in that Yohji had carefully done his research, had, in fact, had this night planned out for _weeks_. This movie was supposed to be romantic as hell.Youhi reached out and hooked a finger in Aya's back pocket, and Aya glanced back at him through eyes that Yohji couldn't read.

"What's up, bunny thong?" he asked lightly. Aya had been so quiet, yet so affectionate tonight that Yohji couldn't help but to feel a little worried.

Aya frowned, a bit of his usual self flashing in his eyes.

"I was thinking about how happy you make me," he answered coldly, "Now, however, I believe I may have thought too soon."

"I make you happy?"

He grimaced, looking away.

"Not when you call me by that horrid name." he answered.

Yohji laughed, sliding his arm around his companion's waist and pulling him close, brushing his lips across his temple.

"I'm in love with you," he explained in a fond murmur. "That gives me the right to call you any stupid name I want."

Aya grunted.

Yohji couldn't believe his luck sometimes. After waiting for so long, Aya was finally his. He could hold him and kiss him and tease him without fear. One day, hopefully soon, he would have permission to do more. He was certainly looking forward to having Aya stretched out beneath him, pale and perfect and quivering with anticipation; however, for the first time in Yohji Kudoh's dating experience, sex wasn't the most important thing. Yohji was just having fun spending time with the smaller man – teasing him, yes, but also just enjoying his company.

It was truly his first experience with something like this. Even his relationship with Asuka hadn't been this way until much later – they had started out physical, and become emotionally close later.

This new thing was…wonderful and exhilarating and oh so amazingly exciting.

Yohji bought their tickets with a grin on his face that made the young girl behind the counter giggle and blush and drop her eyes, not noticing Aya's glare.

"You want popcorn, or do you wanna wait dinner to…" Yohji trailed off as Aya froze beside him. He followed the redhead's gaze across the lobby mere moments before they were spotted.

"Yohji!...Aya?"

Waving enthusiastically, Ken Hideka began to wade through the crowd.

"Can we pretend we didn't see him?" Aya asked quietly.

Yohji glanced at him, and was surprised to see how far his companion's expression had closed off. Beside him no longer stood the sweet and sexy man he was dating, but the cold and untouchable leader of Weiss. Yohji kept his arm around him, but he might as well have been holding a statue.

"I think it's too late." Yohji answered, hoping the smaller man would look at him – praying he would still see some sign of _his_ Aya in those eyes.

Aya didn't look at him.

"I can't believe it; it really _is_ you guys!" Ken laughed as he reached them, running a hand through his hair. "_Man!_ It feels like it's been forever!"

Yohji laughed, clasping his former teammate's forearm, but he was beginning to grow concerned once more with Aya's silence.

"Ken! Ken, you go to fast!"

A girl laden with popcorn and drinks came pushing through the crowd, a good-natured smile on her face. She was small and bubbly, with curves that might have caught Yohji's attention a year ago.

"I'm sorry, Miyo!" Ken said quickly, blushing to the roots of his hair as he rushed to help her with her snacks.

She giggled like it was the funniest thing ever.

"Guys," Ken said as soon as the snacks were safe, "This is my girlfriend, Miyoko Nodaki. Miyo, meet Yohji Kudoh and Aya Fujimiya."

Her eyes grew large in her pretty face.

"Oh! Of course! I've heard so much about you two!"

"Really?" Yohji asked, genuinely surprised. The last time he had seen Ken had been about three months before he'd found Aya again, and the meeting had been both brief and awkward.

It had been even longer, Yohji realized suddenly, since he had seen Omi. The boys of Weiss had fallen out of touch, no longer to look at each other when they all held such dark secrets.

Ken's face grew red once more.

"Yeah, well…" he scratched his head a moment, clearly uncomfortable. "What are you two doing here, anyway?"

"We're on a date." Aya answered before Yohji had the chance.

"Really? You too, Aya? Where is she?"

Aya remained silent, glaring, and Yohji watched in awe as the grin slowly slid from his former teammate's face.

It had just begun to become truly awkward when Aya pointedly pulled Yohji's arm more tightly around himself and settled back against the lanky blonde. Yohji let out all the breath in his body, completely and utterly floored. He wouldn't have been surprised if his jaw had actually hit the floor.

Aya craned his head back to look at him, and Yohji found it impossible to read his eyes.

"I don't want to miss the previews." The small redhead stated.

Yohji found himself nodding dumbly.

"Right," he agreed, fighting the urge to just stand there and stare at the pale man's lips. It was almost painful to pull his eyes away and look at Ken. "We better get going, then."

"What are you two doing tomorrow night?" Miyoko asked quickly. If Aya glared at her, she didn't notice. "Ken and I are having a dinner party for some friends. Please say you'll come!"

Aya didn't answer either way.

"We'll see if we can make it." Yohji answered, neither a yes nor a no. Aya didn't want to go. Yohji didn't think that he did, either.

"Great!" Miyoko cheered. "Do you know where Ken's apartment is? It'll be there, seven o'clock."

Aya gave a brisk nod before pulling Yohji away.

Yohji waited as they ducked into the darkened theatre, knowing that he was about to feel the brunt of Aya's annoyance with the situation.

The theatre was nearly empty and the previews had already begun. It felt very private as Aya took him by the hand and led him to the center of the very back row.

"Aya…"

"Shh."

Uneasy, Yohji settled back in his chair.

(Z)

Yohji hoped the damn movie was having its planned effect on Aya, because it was boring the hell out of Yohji. Halfway through the movie and he was fighting off the urge to fall asleep. It was like torture. He felt as if he had been there _forever_.

He jumped at the sudden feel of a hand on his thigh.

"I'm bored." Aya whispered, breath warm against his ear.

Yohji shivered, leaning closer. "Do you want to leave?"

Aya's hand slid from Yohji's thigh and into his lap, and he raised his eyebrows at Yohji's sudden, strangled gasp. Yohji stared at his companion, unable to do anything but gape as Aya rose and repositioned himself in his lap.

"Aya! What - ?"

The smaller man smirked at him, an expression Yohji had never seen on his lovely face.

"I have a better idea." Aya whispered, shifting in such a way as to make the blonde gasp.

Aya took full advantage, leaning in to kiss him – the slow exploration of mouths. Though Aya had begun their relationship with no experience, he had proven himself a surprisingly fast learner. It was amazing to Yohji how someone with so little practice could be such an amazing kisser, and even more amazing when he realized that the man was turning his own tricks back on him. He wondered if Aya was even aware of his strong effect on Yohji.

Aya's hands slid into his hair and he pulled, tilting Yohji's head to the side as he deepened the kiss, pressing even closer.

Whatever Aya's objections to being the submissive in their relationship, he had always before taken a more passive role, leaving it to Yohji to be the aggressor. There was something very exciting about _Aya_ being the one to initiate, something about the hint of violence to Aya's hands pulling his hair, the rough desperation of his mouth on his own, that set Yohji's blood aflame.

Aya's mouth moved to his neck, and he only hesitated for a fraction of a second before attacking a spot right under Yohji's ear. There was something about that hesitation, the light trickle of breath against his skin, that was nearly enough to undo Yohji.

"Say the word." Aya whispered. "Say the word and we're out of here."

Yohji's eyes widened as he caught on to the redhead's plan.

"Sneaky…bastard!"

Aya smiled, licking his lips luxuriously before leaning back in.

"Are you going to argue?"

_No_, Yohji thought to himself as one of Aya's hands slipped into his lap. No, he certainly was _not_ going to argue.

(Z)

"I could have gotten it myself, Miyoko," Ken teased as he and his girlfriend went for refills on their drinks, leaving the darkened theatre behind.

"I like to be with you," she answered cheerfully, "And truthfully, the movie isn't all that great."

Ken couldn't keep from grinning; Miyoko always affected him that way. Simple and cheerful and bright and optimistic – she simply made him happy. They had met during a dark time in Ken's life, nearly three months after Weiss had disbanded.

She had saved him from the deepest of darkness, and for that he would love her forever. She didn't believe in marriage, but was finally willing to begin discussing moving in together. They almost had it all worked out now.

Laughter from somewhere behind him distracted him from his thoughts, and he could only stare as two young men in very rumpled clothes were escorted from a theatre, laughing and hanging all over each other.

"The movies are no place for that kind of…behavior!" the wildly blushing usher was attempting to scold them. "You're both men, for heaven's sake!"

Ken was staring rudely, but he didn't care.

He had never before seen Aya smile like that – and he'd certainly never seen him laugh. Or blush.

And it had never once occurred to him that there was a possibility of witnessing him pulling Yohji Kudoh's arms around himself.

"Wow," Miyoko commented from beside him, "It's like they're horny highschoolers."

Ken shook his head, too bewildered for much else, and stared until his two former teammates left.

* * *

To Be Continued

**Response to unsigned reviews:**

**incrazoweisslover -** thanks so much for reading!I don't know about any flowers yet, but as for a lemon - well, it's looking more and more likley. Now, if I can just find the time to sit down and write the darn thing...

**talietim** - there's only one thing to be said about Aya: he's one stubborn s-o-b.

**JB** - thanks!

**Kirai** - thankies!

**Moon without a Sun** - squee is one of my fav words. Thanks for using it!

**ycpss** - ack! So many differences of opinion!

**Miss Macabre** - yes, yes, huggles and muffins!

**CaT70** - well, I haven't been impressed by the small bit I have seen of Gluhen, but it's necessary I be more familiar with it...

**Himitsu79** - Yohji and I enjoy it, too.

**amethyst rulzz** - Yohji's always horny. As for the rest...no comment.

Someone tried to send me a link to a Gluhen summery (sorry, I can't find the name right now...) Anyway, erm, links don't show up through ff. Either spaces need to be placed within the address, or it needs to be sent via e-mail. Sorry for the trouble - I really appreciate the help though!

Thanks everyone! See ya next time!


	12. No One Can Deny Omi

I'm very fond of this chapter.

* * *

Leaving Miyoko soundly asleep in the bed, Ken slipped through the room silently as he prepared for his morning jog. Their dinner party last night had been a success , although neither Yohji nor Aya had chosen to make an appearance.

Ken hadn't really expected them to, anyway.

The air was cool enough that he really needed something heavier than the windbreaker he had chosen to wear as he stepped outside, but the young athlete pointedly ignored the nip as he began his warm-up exercises.

These early-morning jogs were his and his alone. His mind was clearest when it was only him and the street and the wind. Many of the most difficult things times of his life would have caused him to break for certain had he not been able to run them out.

Today his mind was clear of problems. His life was finally taking on some semblance of normalcy. His dreams had stopped being filled with blood and fire and betrayal.

He was healing.

He was happy.

Proof of healing was the very fact that just the other night he had seen his former teammates, and the sight of them had not brought on the return of darkness.

Finished with his stretches, Ken began to grin as he set off at a run.

He would pick up breakfast for Miyo today, he decided. She liked the little doughnut shop on his jogging route, and they would be fresh and warm this morning. He liked surprising Miyo, and she deserved it for putting up with him.

He altered his path just a little, deciding to make the shop his stopping point for the day, and walked into the sweet-smelling store in high spirits.

He made his purchase so cheerfully, that the plump little shopgirl blushed and refused to meet his eyes.

Ken accepted his purchase and his change and turned to go.

"Ken?"

He gave a start, staring at the small figure sitting at a table nursing a cup of coffee.

"Omi?"

"How are you?" the small blonde smiled. Ken had seen Omi more often than the others since the disbanding of Weiss, but they had still fallen out of touch enough that he was hesitant to claim that they were still friends.

"Oh, I'm fine," he answered, "Just picking up a surprise for Miyo-chan."

"Oh? And how is she doing?"

"Great, great…." He nodded, noting not for the first time how quiet and _still_ Omi had become over the past few years. It wasn't only apparent in his speaking, but in his movements and mannerisms as well. He had become so subdued; Ken missed the cheerful teen he had known. "You know, it's really weird seeing you today."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! I just ran into Yohji and Aya Friday night."

"Aya's back in Japan?"

"I know; weird, right?"

Omi gestured to the seat before him.

"Join me?" he asked with a smile.

Ken returned the smile and slid into the seat. The doughnuts would grow cold before they reached Miyo, but catching up with Omi was more important.

* * *

Friday night, Aya and Yohji had ended up fighting.

Aya couldn't remember who had started it, or what the fight had been about – just that they hadn't spoken since then.

When they fought like that, Aya always wondered if they were being foolish to try to make a relationship work. There was passion between them, Aya couldn't deny that, but that passion could lend itself to arguments just as easily as it could to kisses.

But however foolish it was, he cared for Yohji. He _needed_ him. He missed him when they weren't together.

So Monday after work, Aya went straight to the blonde's apartment.

It took a few moments for Yohji to answer after he knocked on the door, and when he did, Aya was immediately struck by how horrible Yohji looked.

Dark circles ringed his eyes. His hair was unwashed and unbrushed, his face unshaven.

The taller man blinked blearily at him as if trying to decide if he was really there or not.

"Aya?" he asked at last, reaching out a hand. He seemed genuinely surprised when his fingers came to rest against solid flesh rather than pass through an illusion.

Aya wrinkled his nose, drawing back.

"Gods, Kudoh, did you _bathe_ in gin?"

"Hey! That's a good idea." Yohji wavered, catching himself against the doorframe.

"Is this what you're going to do every time we have an argument?" Aya demanded. "Drink yourself into oblivion? We're too volatile, Kudoh. Your liver won't be able to handle it."

Yohji squinted at him.

"Please tell me you're here to take advantage of me while I'm vulnerable." He pled, rubbing his eyes.

An idea occurred to Aya – a wonderful, evil idea that would prove to be _exactly_ what he needed to soothe the annoyance he was currently feeling towards his boyfriend.

"Do you want me to take advantage of you, Yohji?" he asked, surprised by the confident, silken tone of his own voice. He advanced, and a slightly frightened-looking Yohji stumbled backwards a step.

Aya reached for him, nimbly slipping the remaining buttons of Yohji's shirt through their loops and exposing the center of his chest and abdomen in a long, clean line.

Yohji took a shuddering breath.

"Aya…"

He slid his fingertips down Yohji's stomach, hooking them in the front of his jeans, and walked into the apartment, pulling Yohji along.

They were in the entrance to the bathroom when Yohji finally managed to grab him, kissing him fiercely.

"Love you so much," the blonde mumbled against his lips. "Don't wanna lose you."

Aya paused a moment, stunned that in the midst of his half-drunken lust, it was _love_ that Yohji was thinking of.

"You won't lose me," Aya promised, "As long as you stop being an idiot."

Yohji gave him a confused look, which he quickly forgot as Aya set to distracting him. Aya got the other man out of his pants with surprising ease, coaxing him into the shower with kisses and whispered promises.

Then he turned the water on – full blast, cold as it would go – and fled to the sound of Yohji's screeches, threats, and curses.

* * *

"You're a bastard."

The small form at the kitchen table looked up, eyes cool and disinterested. Those eyes scanned Yohji for a moment before he nodded and looked away at last.

Yohji had the horrible feeling that Aya would have reacted differently had he not taken the time to wash his hair and shave before leaving the bathroom.

"Will you please go get dressed?"

Yohji looked down at the damp towel wrapped around his waist.

"I'm covered." He answered, knowing he sounded sullen. Normally he would have retorted with some teasing comment about making the redhead nervous, but he was _not_ in the mood for it. "You're a bastard." He repeated.

Aya nodded.

"There's coffee on the counter."

Grumbling under his breath, Yohji poured himself a cup before sitting down across the table from Aya, glaring fiercely.

A few more moments passed before the redhead looked at him, expression nothing Yohji knew how to read.

"Yohji," he sighed and shook his head, clearly having trouble with what he wanted to say. "You're going to make me talk, aren't you?"

"You sure as hell better talk."

Aya closed his eyes as if pained.

"I don't like this behavior, Yohji." he stated quietly. "It isn't healthy."

"Okay…"

"No. You aren't going to dismiss this. We're going to talk about it."

"I was upset. That's all."

"Do you even remember what it was we fought over?"

He grimaced. "I remember you suggesting we stop seeing each other."

Eyes still closed, Aya rested his chin atop his intertwined fingers.

"I'm not an impulsive person, Yohji. You know this. If I were to make that kind of decision, I wouldn't do it so quickly. I was angry. We always say things we don't mean when we're angry."

"It scared me."

"I wouldn't decide something like that just because we had a fight. It would be a long time coming; you would know long before. Okay?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm not going to leave just because we've had some kind of a fight. I _will_ leave if you end up with some drinking problem because you have to act like an idiot every time we have a disagreement."

"Okay…"

Aya glared at him a moment before shaking his head and rising to pour himself some coffee.

"I can't believe I was ready to sleep with you this weekend." He mumbled.

There was silence a long moment before Yohji's voice came out. Quiet. Dangerous.

"_What_?"

Aya smiled, knowing his companion couldn't see him with his back to him.

"I had prepared myself for defeat," he answered as innocently as he could, keeping his back to the blonde to hide his amusement. "I knew I would never last out the weekend…but then you ruined it, Yohji. You were so stupid, and now you've lost your chance."

"Aya…"

"If you had just called me Saturday, or come over Sunday, I would have forgiven you…but it's too late now." He made his voice as cold as possible, though he couldn't keep from smiling. It was fun to be the one doing the teasing for once. "My mind is much more clear today than it was on Friday."

"Clear?" Yohji croaked.

"I may never decide to make our relationship become more physical now." Aya answered coolly. "Sure, it feels nice, but it takes up a lot of time, too. Time we could be spending talking."

"Talking?"

"I know you won't mind, Yohji. Not if you love me as much as you claim to."

Yohji was trying to choke out some sort of answer when Aya turned to him at last. Yohji's jaw dropped open at the expression on Aya's face. Slowly, fury began to overcome the blonde's face as he rose swiftly to his feet.

Aya abruptly found himself trapped between Yohji and the kitchen counter, the other man's hips flush against his own, Yohji's hands on his arms with a grip strong enough to make moving difficult.

"Bastard." Yohji breathed, staring into his eyes from mere inches away.

Aya opened his mouth to comment and was promptly prevented from doing so as Yohji's lips descended on his own – hungry, somewhat angry, and as passionate as ever.

"You brushed your teeth before coming out here?"

"I'm a good boyfriend." Yohji nodded, an impish grin on his face.

Yohji leaned in for another kiss, though this one was not nearly so forceful. Aya had never kissed anyone else, but he assumed that with tall of the blonde's experience he had to be fairly talented. Aya certainly enjoyed himself.

Yohji had a certain way – he had perfected the slow, exploratory kiss. Somehow he had found the exact right way to tilt his head, discovered the prime amount of tongue, and calculated the exact slowness of exploration to make Aya's legs turn to jelly.

Yohji released his arms and let his hands come to rest on his hips just as he pushed closer, trapping Aya completely between him and the counter as he continued the kiss. Aya's arms slid around the other man's neck as he surrendered himself to the wonderful sensations.

Yohji broke the kiss at last and almost seemed to collapse against him, arms going tight around him.

"I love you so much, Aya." He whispered fervently, burying his face in the crook of the other man's neck.

Aya closed his eyes, tightening his own arms around his companion. He cared for the other man more than he'd ever thought possible…but did he love him? He felt as if he should say it back.

"If you catch me being an idiot, tell me so – no matter how angry I've made you." Yohji pled quietly. "Call me, or come back – or better yet, don't leave at all if a fight is unresolved. It scares me too damn much to think about losing you."

"I promise."

Yohji drew back, clearly surprised that the oath had been so easy to obtain.

"You're important to me, too." Aya informed him bravely, forcing the words out of his mouth. It was difficult to admit these things.

Yohji stared at him a moment and seemed to see something that reassured him for the next moment he was embracing him again.

"Gods," Yohji whispered with a half-muffled laugh. "You love me, Aya. You may not be able to say it yet, but you love me all the same."

"Maybe I do." He acknowledged after only a moment's hesitation.

Yohji was kissing him again, back to the heat of before, blinding Aya to everything but what he was feeling.

When Yohji's cell phone began to ring, Aya was sitting on the kitchen counter, his shirt mostly pulled off and the top button of his jeans undone.

Annoyed at the inturuption, Aya snatched the phone off the counter beside him and answered it.

"Yohji Kudoh's phone."

"Aya?"

* * *

Yohji watched all traced of humor, of teasing and sweetness, spill from Aya's face like water going down a drain.

Without another word to whoever had called, Aya held out the phone to Yohji.

Concerned for what could make his love close off like that, Yohji nonetheless fought to make his own voice as bright and cheerful as possible.

"'Yello. Kudoh speaking."

"Yohji! Was that Aya?"

He felt the blood drain from his face and he glanced quickly at Aya. The redhead had shrugged his shirt back on and was buttoning it back up with suddenly clumsy fingers. He refused to meet Yohji's eyes.

"Yohji?" Omi asked again. "That _was_ Aya, wasn't it? Ken said he was back in town."

"Yeah," Yohji answered relucatantly. "Yeah, Aya's here." He moved forward and pulled the smaller man against his chest, knowing full well how Aya hated to be reminded of the past. Seeing Ken, then hearing from Omi, had to be trying for him.

Aya froze a moment before reluctantly relaxing against him and Yohji wrapped his arms tightly around him, propping the cell phone up between his shoulder and ear so that he could hold him with both arms.

"He says hi," he lied.

"What luck I caught you both at the same time!" Omi exclaimed cheerfully. "This makes everything so much easier!"

"Everything?"

"I'm putting together a party to get everyone back together. It's the perfect time for catching up, since Aya's really back and Ken's practically engaged – and I heard from Aya-chan and Sakuya-chan at the flower shop that _you're _seeing someone pretty seriously, too."

"Yeah…" he agreed weakly. "Well, it sounds like loads of fun, but I'm afraid that Aya and I both are pretty busy lately." They had, in fact, a publicity party to go to on Friday to promote the release of Narumoto's first single in a few weeks.

"That's why I scheduled our first get-together for Sunday afternoon," Omi said with cheer. "Please say you'll come – and Aya, too!"

He had never been good at resisting Omi.

"I would love to, you know I would, chibi. But I'm not brave enough or stupid enough to try to speak for Aya."

"Oh, please, Yotan! Please, please, _please_? You know Ayan won't come unless we force him to. Promise me you'll make him come, even if you have to kidnap him, okay?"

Perhaps sensing some weakness in his companion, Aya pulled back and snatched the phone away.

"Omi."

Yohji shuddered; it had been a long time since Aya had sounded so cold, since his eyes had been so empty. Even when Aya was furious at him, he had retained some warm spark of humanity he hadn't possessed during his years in Weiss.

Omi seemed to talk for a very long time, for Aya only interrupted a few times to voice a firm "no."

Yohji leaned against Aya and pulled the other man's legs around himself as he laid his head against the smaller man's shoulder. He felt no small bit of relief as Aya began to slowly pull his fingers through his hair.

Aya wasn't mad at him, then.

"No," Aya said into the phone again. "Because I don't want to." He snapped at some probing.

Yohji gently kissed his neck, smiling to himself as Aya shivered. He slid his hand up the redhead's thigh and felt an excited thrill as Aya did not push his hand away.

However amazing it was, he was _allowed_ to do this.

Every time he thought about it, he wanted to dance.

At last Aya sighed, and Yohji knew that Omi had broken him. It was impossible to resist Omi.

"Fine," Aya said tersely, "We'll be there."

Yohji waited until he hung up.

"I'm supposed to bring my new sweetie, anyway."

Aya only glared.

Yohji hesitated.

"What do you want to do, Aya?" he asked gently. "Do you want to tell them, or hide our relationship?"

"Ken already knows."

"I know."

"You all were my only family for so long. Just because I don't feel comfortable seeing them after all this time doesn't mean that I don't care anymore."

"Aya?"

The violet eyed man looked at him then, sliding his hands into Yohji's hair.

"I don't want to hide."

Yohji grinned, leaning forward for a kiss. Aya pulled back.

"Did Omi tell you my sister would be there?"

"Yeah…"

"You're all going to have to call me Ran."

"I'll make sure Ken knows."

A silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Aya began slowly pulling his hands through Yohji's hair once more.

"Yohji…can we put off out bet until after Omi's party?" he asked finally, hesitantly.

Yohji had closed his eyes. He opened them now.

"Put off?"

"It's going to be a rough weekend…I will need my mind to be clear."

Aya was so careful, as if he feared that Yohji would argue with his request. He didn't seem aware that Yohji would never deny him anything.

"As soon as we get home Sunday night, you can go right back to seducing me, I promise."

"Of course. Anything you want."

"You aren't going to be difficult?"

Yohji shrugged.

"I love you, bunny thong."

* * *

To Be Continued

The four assassins have gotten out of touch. Any time when you've lost touch with an old friend - especially if you shared a really close relationship, it seems - it's awkward when you see them again. In addition, Aya is antisocial. He hasn't changed because of Yohji, it's just that he trusts him, and that Yohji has gotten to know him really well. Aya's coldness toward his other teammates isn't even seen as an odd thing to them, because he's acting no different than he always has towards them.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**moimoi-chan** - I like hope forlorn; I've actually been there before. But the page is still "in progress" and their Gluhen summery is still marked "coming soon." I appreciate the help, though.

**JB** - I don't know what it is about Ken, but I just love making that boy uncomfortable...

**morningglory** - actually, my brother works at the theatre, and he has some pretty...interesting...stories. LOL

**Kirai** - "Enough" candy? I've never heard of such.

**Moon without a Sun** - (happy dance)

**talietime** - see above. Thanks; I'm so happy to have been the cause of another addiction in this world...LOL

**Himitsu79 - **he's a guy. He's gotta get horny sometime, right?


	13. Dinner

Plans for the future of this storyline are forming in my mind. Nothing is concrete yet, but the Gluhen summaries are definitely helping. One link in particular was really helpful, however their link for the final episode does not work, so I'm still looking for a good summery of that.

* * *

Aya was on edge.

During the time in which they had been seeing each other, Yohji had become more attuned to the other man's emotions than he would ever have dreamed possible. Sure, there were still plenty of times when he couldn't tell what the man was thinking, yet nevertheless he thought he was growing fairly skilled at reading the quiet, private man.

A tension in his shoulders, the tightness with which he grasped his hand, the extra pale pallor to his skin – it all screamed to him that his small companion was uneasy, but Yohji was completely lost as to how to help. Aya had _agreed_ to come to this stupid thing, after all.

Yohji supposed it wasn't only Omi's party that had set Aya on edge. If Yohji knew anything about the man, he knew that the redhead had been running every detail of Friday's promotional party through his mind ever since, yet his current state of nerves surely had to do with more than that.

Yohji hesitated at the door – the party was being held at Ken's apartment – and Aya looked at him.

"Aren't you going to knock?"

"Are you sure you want to do this, Aya?" he asked quietly. "It's not too late to back out, you know."

"It _will_ be too late once you knock, though. And call me Ran."

Yohji sighed and raised his free hand to knock. Were the situation a better one, he would have been rejoicing over permission to use Aya's other's name. He had tried using it once, back in Weiss after learning about his leader's past.

Aya had nearly taken his head off for the indiscretion.

Yohji had been unwilling to try it again, even after the changes his relationship with the man had undergone.

Aya gave a small jump at the sound made as Yohji knocked on the door, and he shifted closer to the blonde's side.

Omi was the one to answer, his eyes almost immediately focusing on their joined hands. Surprise immediately overshadowed whatever cheer had been on his face as he brows furrowed together.

"What - ?"

"Hey! Yohji and Ran are here!" Ken cheered, muscling his way into the doorway. He hooked an arm around Yohji's neck and pulled him into the apartment, breaking him from Aya's side. Aya followed after a moment of silently meeting Omi's large, bewildered eyes.

Yohji tried to turn back to Aya, but Ken tightened his hold on him, stopping him.

"What do you think you're doing?" the brunette hissed as he led him through a meticulously clean living room toward the kitchen, where everyone else seemed to have gathered. "You think Aya's going to thank you for blabbing about your relationship to his sister?"

"We agreed," Yohji scowled, wrenching away. "No hiding."

"But - !"

"I think Yohji and I can make our own decisions, Hideka." Aya informed him coldly as he entered the apartment at last. "You're the absolute _last_ person we would ask for relationship advice, anyway."

"Relationship?" Omi croaked, following.

Yohji reached out and hooked a finger in a pocket of Aya's jeans, pulling him back to his side and giving their former teammates a challenging stare.

"I'm in love with Aya – and he tolerates me. This is important news." He announced. "We aren't going to try to pretend that it's anything other than what it is."

"Just because you're fucking - !"

A sharp look from Aya, and Ken quickly shut his mouth.

"Why is everyone hiding out here?" Miyoko asked brightly, coming into the living room followed by Aya-chan and Sakuya.

Aya grew suddenly cold and tense, stepping closer to Yohji's side.

Aya-chan didn't seem to see anything but her beloved older brother.

"You've finally come to see me, Ran." She beamed.

An oven timer in the next room went off.

"Dinner's ready!" Miyo announced.

* * *

Omi fidgeted uneasily at the table, having lost his appetite completely.

He'd had such wonderful plans in his head – reuniting the team that had been closer to him than family. Meeting Ken's fiancée at last, as well as whatever sweetheart Yohji was currently pursuing. He would reunite Aya with his beloved sister.

There would be smiles and laughter and warmth, and the void that had been in Omi's heart since the morning he had woken to find his "family" was no more would be filled at last.

All his dreams had gone up in flames the moment he had opened the door for Aya and Yohji.

The horror that had struck him to see their hands intertwined, to realize that "Yotan" was such a slimeball as to have made a move on injured, repressed Aya - !

Just the slightest glance at the red haired man showed him greatly changed from the man he had once been. Obviously, whatever his relationship with Yohji, it meant something to him. Still nearly silent, he no longer radiated sadness, violence, and regret. It was clear just by the way he looked at the man that he had begun to depend on him for healing.

And Yohji, damn him, was going to break his heart.

Aya had always been blind when it came to his own health – mental or physical. Obviously, Yohji had decided to offer him the comfort and support he had always needed and Aya had grabbed for the love he had always needed without thought. So desperate had poor Ayan been to heal his wounded spirit, and so careless was he with his heart, that he had accepted a relationship with Yohji without considering the man's reputation.

Despite his current fury with the man, Omi loved Yohji like family.

Nevertheless, he was well aware of the man's many vices. After all, _he_ had been the one to nurse the blonde from his hangovers, to make certain he didn't run out of protection, to kick his various girlfriends out of the flowershop in the mornings.

Maybe he had loved his precious Asuka once, but Yohji Kudoh was incapable of loving anyone else ever again save, perhaps, himself. Yes, Yohji only loved himself, and didn't care who he hurt so long as he got what _he_ wanted.

And now Aya was his next target.

Hadn't the man suffered enough in his life?

Omi was _furious_.

And Yohji, the bastard, had the nerve to pretend there was nothing wrong – to act as if he had no reason to be ashamed of his horrid behavior.

The _nerve_ he had to flaunt his little game in front of Omi and Ken, knowing full well that they would see through the act, even if Aya couldn't - !

And in front of Aya's sister, no less!

It seemed a little tense between Aya and Aya-chan, but then, Omi had heard that Aya hadn't even visited her since she had awoken from her coma. Of course things would be a little awkward when it had been so long since they had last spoken.

As they had sat down for dinner, Aya had quietly slid a small box across the table to his sister. When Aya-chan opened it, it had been revealed to hold the earring Aya himself had worn for so long.

Her eyes had filled with tears and the unease that had been lurking in her eyes since her brother walked through the door had vanished.

"Thank you, Ran." She whispered.

He had simply nodded silently.

Omi's heart ached for Aya. He'd fought so hard and gone to such extreme lengths to avenge his sister and now that she was awake at last, the very nature he had cultivated to make himself a killer kept him from being close to her again.

That, combined with Yohji's using him…

Omi clenched his hands in his lap, fighting his anger. Hadn't the man been forced to suffer enough?

"So, Ran, what are you doing nowadays?" Omi asked. He would help Aya the best way he knew how – by being his friend.

Aya looked up from the plate of food he'd been picking at, blinking at him in surprise.

Yohji's hand moved under the table and Aya glanced at him. Undoubtedly, the small red head was now being groped. Omi fought the urge to glare.

"I'm in the music business." Aya answered at last, then said no more.

Omi smiled brightly.

"Yohji, can you help me with something in the kitchen?"

* * *

"What'cha need, chibi?" Yohji drawled, stretching his arms out above his head as he followed his former teammate into the kitchen."

Omi rounded on him, and Yohji took an involuntary step back at the fury in his friend's eyes. Omi was _scary_ when he was angry.

"What do you think you're _doing_?" the younger man hissed finally.

"What?"

"Yohji - !" Omi searched his face and seemed to become even more enraged at whatever he saw there. "Don't you _dare_ try to play innocent, Yohji – I know _exactly_ what you're doing."

"Okay…care to let _me_ know?"

A furious glare.

"_Aya_, Yohji."

"He looks great, doesn't he? What – are you angry because I didn't tell you he was back? He didn't want me to tell anyone, and…I kinda wanted to keep him to myself for a while, you know?" he couldn't help but to grin – he wouldn't have traded those wonderful months with Aya for _anything_.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Yohji!"

"What do you…?"

"This little game you're playing with Aya – it's disgusting!"

"Don't tell me you're homophobic, chibi!" he groaned.

"That's not what I - ! Yohji, this is _Aya_. He's damaged and he's fragile and you're just going to throw him away once you're finished playing with him, just like you throw away everyone when they stop being interesting."

"Omi, you don't understand. It's not like that this time."

"Like hell, Yohji." He snarled. "You're going to hurt him and he doesn't deserve it. Love is nothing but a game to you – you haven't been able to take it seriously since Asuka died."

Yohji felt himself getting angry.

"Careful, chibi." He warned.

"You've been embittered by your pain. You can't bear the thought of anyone loving you, so you hurt anyone who tries. You enjoy is because it means someone else is feeling the same kind of pain you are."

Yohji gritted his teeth.

"That was true once," he admitted, clenching his hands into fists. "But it's not anymore. I'm _happy_ now. _Aya_ makes me happy. I love him – I would _never_ hurt him, Omi."

"I don't believe you, Yohji."

"Why the hell not?"

"He's beautiful, Yohji, but you don't like men."

"You don't know that."

"All the years I've known you and you've only dated women."

"You don't know that, Omi. You never saw all my dates. You weren't at the bars or the hotels or the clubs."

"You're just proving my point, Yohji!" he sighed. "You can't have a serious relationship – you aren't ready for one! Aya deserves someone who's serious about him!"

Yohji glared at him a moment before stalking back out into the dining room.

"Aya-chan."

Every head in the room swiveled to look at him. Particularly prominent was the feel of lovely violet eyes boring into him, and he wondered if his and Omi's argument had been overheard.

Aya-chan was pale as she looked at him.

"Yes?"

"I'm in love with your brother." He informed her bluntly. "I'm head over heels, abso-fucking-lutley in love with him. He's the one I've been seeing all this time. He's all I think about; he's all I want. I would be happy for the rest of my life if I could just stay by his side, holding his hand."

He waited and the silence was deafening. The eyes on him had a nearly physical weight to them, and his pulse was pounding loudly in his ears.

"No." Aya-chan whispered at last.

Yohji's throat went dry, and cold fear rushed through his body.

"What?" he rasped.

The dark haired girl had paled, but her gaze was strong and unflinching – as steely and piercing as her brother's could be.

"You'll hurt him."

Aya threw down his napkin and rose, gaining everyone's attention. His glare was at its fiercest.

"Let's go, Yohji."

"Ran!"

The red head closed his eyes, and Yohji knew he had done it so that he wouldn't be able to glare at his beloved sister.

"Omi, Aya-chan…you're both concerned for me. That's fine. But it's _my_ decision." He opened his eyes, but refused to look at anyone but Yohji. Those eyes were dark, pleading.

Yohji held out his hand and Aya came willingly to his side, hiding his face against Yohji's neck as he drew the smaller man to his side.

"I'd like to say it's been a lovely evening," the blonde drawled, "And I would love to thank you for inviting us, chibi, but I can't."

No one tried to stop them as they left.

* * *

To Be Continued

I could say something here, but I won't.

Just please, don't be too hard on Omi. He doesn't understand how serious Yohji is; he's just trying to look out for his friends.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews**:

**Moon without a Sun** - hope you enjoyed!

**Kirai** - thanks!

**amethyst rulzz** - He's not in my head. A person acts differently around someone he loves and trusts then he would act around anyone else, don't you think? Anyway, glad you like.

**morningglory** - thankies!


	14. Stay With Me

I wish there was a way to do this without giving away the secret – but I'm afraid a warning is necessary.

This chapter contains a **LEMON**. Do Not read it if you have a problem with it. Do Not read if under seventeen. And lastly, Do Not read if you don't know what a "lemon" is.

* * *

The car ride home had been silent. An angry silence. An offended silence.

Yohji was more thankful than he could possibly say that Aya's anger was not directed at _him_. If he had been afraid that Aya would take his sister's disapproval as an excuse to slow down or even halt the progression of their relationship, those fears had been killed when they had gotten into the car and Aya had automatically reached for his hand.

"I'm sorry." Yohji finally said, outside the door to Aya's apartment.

Aya's expression was unreadable.

"For what?"

Yohji shook his head. "I don't know – everything? I'm sorry I didn't insist we not go. I'm sorry I didn't call and warn Omi about us," he slid his hand against Aya's cheek, and wondered if he had only imagined it when the smaller man leaned into the touch. "Most of all, I'm sorry that I've ever dated anyone else."

Aya snorted.

"Can you imagine what a mess this relationship would be if we were _both_ as inexperienced as I am?"

"If I wasn't such a…such a _man-whore_, no one would have a problem with us."

Aya gave a soft snort of laughter, but quickly sobered. "Don't be so sure," he answered at last. "My family was very traditional. My sister will probably never be comfortable with the idea of me with another man. But that doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind about us."

"You sure? You've never done this before. How do we know I'm not corrupting you?"

Aya smiled slightly, fingertips playing along Yohji's arms. "You're definitely corrupting me, Yohji," he said quietly. "But don't flatter yourself. I preferred men long before I ever met you."

"Seriously?"

"Why do you seem so surprised?"

Yohji gave an uncomfortable shrug, deciding to be honest. "You've always been gorgeous as hell, Aya, but untouchable. I guess I never thought sex was something you thought about."

"By the time we met, it wasn't." Aya answered. "Before Taketori destroyed my family, though, I was a completely normal boy."

Placing his hands on his companion's hips, Yohji moved forward until he was pressing the smaller man against the wall. He nibbled a moment at his deliciously pale neck before moving his lips to his ear.

"Somehow, bunny-thong," he whispered fondly, "I find it very hard to believe _you_ were ever normal." Though the mental image of Aya in a school uniform was a tantalizing thought, to be sure.

Aya tilted his head back to allow Yohji better access to his neck, running his hands through his hair.

"I've always been…quiet," the smaller man admitted at last. "I enjoyed learning and books and music…but I could smile and laugh. I wasn't…wasn't frozen inside."

"You aren't frozen, Aya."

"Not anymore," he acknowledged. "_You_ did that, Yohji. _You_ freed me from the ice. But…I'm still the same person. Ran died that night in the rain when his family was destroyed. I tried to hold onto him for a while, but he really is well and truly dead. I'm _Aya_ now. Even though I don't kill anymore, I'm still the man I _became_ rather than the one I was going to be."

Yohji drew back, saddened by the darkness in his lover's eyes.

"I didn't mean to…gods, Aya. The last thing I wanted was to upset you."

He shook his head.

"I upset myself," he said quietly. "I always had the illusion that once my sister awoke and the killing stopped, I could be Ran again. I suppose part of the reason I didn't want to see her was because I was afraid of letting that illusion end." Aya sighed, suddenly so weary. "That illusion is gone now."

"Good."

Aya looked at him sharply.

"_Good_?"

Yohji leaned in, resting his forehead against Aya's.

"I'm in love with quiet, brooding, screwed-in-the-head Aya. Not Ran."

"You've never met Ran."

"Don't wanna. He sounds boring. I like _issues_ with my lovers."

"'I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine'?"

"Yeah," Yohji grinned. "Something like that. What's that from?"

Shaking his head, Aya grabbed him and pulled him close, holding on to him in a bruising embrace. Yohji could feel his small body trembling violently in his arms. All he could do was hold him, stroke his hair, and try to find something – _anything_ – to say.

Aya pulled away before he could.

"Stay the night with me."

"Aya, you're upset." Yohji murmured. "You don't want to do anything you'll regret tomorrow."

"I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Aya…"

"I can make my own decisions, Yohji."

He hesitated, knowing that arguing would only insult and anger the small redhead. Surely he had misunderstood.

"What about the bet?" he asked at last.

"I don't care anymore," he swore. His expression softened as he took Yohji's hands in his own. "Go to your apartment and pack an overnight bag. I'll leave the door open for you."

A kiss, and Aya disappeared into his apartment.

* * *

Yohji stepped through the doorway and toed off his shoes, casting what he hoped was a casual glance around the familiar, meticulously clean living room of Aya's apartment.

No sign of the redhead. A glance into the kitchen showed it to be empty as well.

That only left…

Yohji shook his head, furious with himself. Why the _fuck_ was he nervous? He had sure as hell done this often enough in the past.

And now, _now_, when it really mattered, he was scared to death.

"Don't screw this up, Kudoh," he told himself fiercely, refusing to listen to the stubborn little voice in his head that told him what a selfish bastard he could be and demanded to know if he really thought he could keep his cool for long enough to ensure Aya's first time was a pleasantly memorable experience for the other man.

Taking a deep breath, Yohji headed for the bedroom.

He found Aya sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folding neatly in his lap. By his expression, it was obvious to the blonde that he was lost in thought, though Yohji was lost as to what was going through the smaller man's mind.

Aya didn't look his way even as Yohji dropped his hastily-packed overnight bag and closed the door.

Yohji noticed thatthe pale manhad removed his shoes and socks, as well as the tie he had worn to dinner. He had taken his hair from the elastic band that had held it back all night and it fell gently against his shoulders, begging to be touched.

Aya looked at him at last when Yohji came to stand before him, and the blonde made certain he held the smaller man's eyes as he spoke.

"Are you completely sure this is what you want?" he asked. His voice sounded terribly uneasy, but his hands were steady where they had come to rest cupping Aya's face.

Aya seemed to hear his fear, because his expression softened into something more human – more approachable.

"It wouldn't be fair of me to promise something I knew I wasn't ready for – and I always want to be fair to you, Yohji, as well as honest."

"It would hurt _so_ much to lose you just because I was too stupid to know when to say no. We don't have to have sex just because I'm staying the night.

Aya took a shuddering breath and offered him a weak smile.

"Do you think you're the only one who's been wanting this?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

Aya pulled him to sit beside him on the bed, expression so soft and ironic and trusting, all at once.

"I want this, too, Yohji. Just because I wanted us to wait until our relationship was more…strong…doesn't mean that sex is some kind of sacrifice for me. Waiting has been just as difficult for me as it has for you – I've wanted you a long time." Aya dropped his eyes, smile playing along his lovely lips. "I wanted you before I ever dreamed that you could love me."

"You bastard."

Aya matched what Yohji was sure was a rather stupid grin with a much quieter, much shier smile of his own.

"How could I not, with the way you dress?" he teased.

"I thought sex frightened you."

"I'm terrified."

Yohji leaned forward to capture his lips, and Aya accepted the kiss with a freedom he had never before possessed. Yohji could tell by the heat and intensity of the kiss alone that Aya had made his decision – that this was finally going to happen.

His hand slipped into Aya's lap, fingertips gently brushing against the other man's crotch, and he smiled slightly against Aya's lips as he felt him shiver delightedly in response.

Aya slid his hands up Yohji's chest, taking hold of the lapels of his shirt and laying backwards across his bed, pulling Yohji with him. The blonde had a moment to be surprised, before he was distracted by the fact they were suddenly pressed so very tightly together.

Aya's hands slipped under Yohji's shirt, splaying across the bare skin of his back and pressing, forcing their two bodies even closer together, and Yohji happily obliged, rocking teasingly against him as he ravished his mouth with new fervor.

Hands tight fists in his hair, Aya suddenly pulled Yohji away.

"Go slow," he cautioned with a halfhearted glare, his eyes already beginning to darken and glaze with lust. Yohji found himself staring at his beautiful, kiss swollen lips, and couldn't help but to grin.

He slid his hand up under Aya's shirt and let it rest there warmly. With his other hand he tilted Aya's head to the side and slipped his lips to the soft skin of his neck, finding the area of the other man's jaw right under his ear most sweet.

Aya's arms tightened around him as he gave himself over to the leisurely exploration.

There was something indescribably exciting about finding Aya so pliant and sweetly willing at last. The last of Yohji's niggling worries slipped away.

Almost moving of their own accord, his hands were pulling Aya's shirt from the waistband of his slacks, fingers fumbling with strange awkwardness with the buttons of his shirt. Aya's skin was unbelievably soft under his fingertips, extraordinarily sweet under his lips, as he moved ever lower, Aya's hands moving to run themselves leisurely through his hair.

Yohji rested his head against Aya's hip for a moment, tracing his fingers delicately against the other man's sides.

"What are you doing?"

Aya's voice was not nearly as stable as usual, and his hands were trembling very slightly.

Yohji didn't answer him, instead nuzzling even closer. Aya took a shuddering breath, hands convulsing in Yohji's hair.

With an easy movement, Yohji undid the button of Aya's slacks, and easily slid down the zipper. Hooking his fingers in the smaller man's boxers, he slid both them and the pants off and away and gave himself a long moment to stare at the sight now revealed to him.

"Gods, Aya…" he breathed at last.

The redhead only blinked at him, eyes gone dark and vague and too beautiful for words. His body was as beautiful as the rest of him, all pale, clean lines – somehow strong and vulnerable, hard and soft, all at once. He was utterly defenseless, utterly ready.

Utterly Yohji's.

The blonde slid his hands up the other man's thighs, and Aya closed his eyes and leaned his head back, somehow so submissive yet so demanding all at once.

Aya let out a small cry of surprise, eyes shooting open once more as Yohji let his fingers trace lightly against the length of him.

Holding his eyes, Yohji lowered his head to cover him with his mouth.

"_Yohji - !_"

He couldn't help but to smirk against him, proud of the strangled need in his lover's voice. Aya clawed at him a moment, and reluctantly Yohji pulled away, breathing lightly against the wettened skin before rolling his eyes upwards to look at the swordsman.

"What's wrong?" he asked teasingly.

Aya's glare was weak.

"Don't _do_ that."

"Why not?"

Aya shook his head, and Yohji wondered if it was his imagination or if the other man was actually blushing.

"You don't like it?" he pressed warmly.

"I didn't say…"

Grinning, Yohji lowered his head once more, the sound of Aya's labored breathing and quiet whimpers music to his ears.

"Yohji - !"

He pinned the other man's slim hips to the bed, holding him still and helpless as Aya clutched at him, cries growing louder and less hesitant, rising to a beautiful crescendo Yohji knew no other being in the world had ever earned from him.

"It's okay," Yohji assured him as he pulled away at last, stretching out against the softly panting man on the bed. "You're aloud to go more than once – it gives us more time to enjoy ourselves."

Aya swatted weakly at him, the small smile on his lovely face belying the attempted glare, and Yohji gave a quiet chuckle.

"Are you embarrassed?" he teased, nuzzling his neck. "That was _supposed_ to happen, you know."

Aya snorted quietly, tracing his fingers leisurely up and down Yohji's back.

"And now comes the…the other part?"

"Only if you still want it to." Yohji answered. Stopping now would be painful…unbearably painful…but his relationship with Aya was far more important.

"You keep talking this way, and I'm going to think that _you're_ the one who's frightened."

Yohji lifted his head, gazing down at his lover and finding he had to fight back the desire that suddenly swept itself through his veins.

"Are you still frightened, Aya?"

The redhead smiled languidly at him, trust and affection and desire all shining within his dark, half-lidded eyes.

"Not so much anymore," he answered quietly.

"_Good_." Yohji breathed, moving to kiss him.

Aya pushed him gently away.

"Not yet."

"What's wrong?"

"I want to see you first."

Grinning, Yohji slid from the bed. Aya repositioned himself to be more secure on the bed before giving him an expectant look.

Yohji found himself staring, and didn't try to hide it even as Aya noticed. The red haired man appeared so frail in the large bed, so pale against the dark sheets. His body was smooth alabaster, every limb perfect to Yohji's adoring eyes.

"What?" Aya asked at last.

Yohji shook his head, grinning.

"I just can't believe that this is finally happening."

"It won't if you don't hurry," he snapped, sitting up.

Yohji couldn't help but to give a small laugh, reaching up to loosen his collar.

Aya drew his knees to his chest, eyes dark and intense as he watched Yohji undress, obsessively following his every move.

"There's not going to be a quiz on this later, you know." Yohji teased, crawling across the bed toward Aya once he had finished.

"This is important to me." Aya murmured back, reaching for him. "I don't want to miss anything."

"Well, if you do miss something, I'll be more than happy to show you again." Yohji promised, lips a whisper above his lover's delicate skin. "However many times you need me to – all you have to do is ask."

His lips found Aya's and the pale man stretched his legs out. Yohji felt a thrill of excitement as he directed him to wrap those long limbs around him. He pressed close enough to feel that Aya had recovered and was once more hard and ready.

Close enough that Aya could feel him, too.

His skin against Aya's was a pleasure he hadn't dared allowed himself to anticipate. Were there not more pressing needs to be met, he was certain he would have been content to stay there, Aya beneath him, skin so soft and warm against his own.

He had been still for too long. Aya wriggled beneath him, shifting enough to make him moan.

"I thought you wanted me to go slow," he teased, deliberately crashing his pelvis against the redhead's – causing him to let out a small, surprised gasp.

Without answering, Aya wrapped his arms tightly around him and pulled him closer.

Yohji buried his face against the sweetness of his lover's neck, letting his hands roam freely against the pale flesh beneath him.

Light touches, teasing caresses. He nipped at Aya's collar bone, and rocked gently against him, listening to the sounds the other man was making growing steadily louder and more desperate.

He pulled back at last to survey his work, feeling a thrill of excitement. Aya's eyes had gone dark with desire once more, his chest heaving as quiet whimpers escaped his kiss-swollen lips.

Suddenly desperate, Yohji cast around for a moment and found a bottle of lubricant on the nightstand – of course Aya _would_ plan ahead. He had probably bought the stuff at the very beginning of their relationship – just in case.

Yohji coated his fingers quickly and leaned in close once more, covering Aya's lips with his own in a heated kiss as he carefully entered him with one finger. Aya made a small, surprised sound against his mouth.

"You okay?" Yohji asked against his lips.

Aya nodded, pulling him back into the kiss.

It was a fight to force himself to take the time to prepare Aya as thoroughly as he knew he should; the pale man seemed to have made it his personal duty to make it as difficult for Yohji as possible, but at last it was done and he was positioning himself and wondering how the hell he was going to control himself for much longer.

He held Aya's eyes as he entered him – slowly, carefully, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort control took.

He saw the small flash of pain, watched the pain be overtaken by pleasure.

"Okay?" he asked again, voice choked from the strain caused by the sweet tightness closed around him.

"Gods, yes." Aya breathed.

Yohji gave him a moment more to adjust before beginning to move, slowly at fist, then faster as he found himself encouraged by the sweet, soft sounds his lover was making, and the way he pulled him close, clinging to him.

Yohji's hand found Aya's length and he planned his strokes in time with his thrusts, nearly losing all control when the small swordsman arched against him.

He did begin to lose control when Aya began to come, holding the pale man's gaze for as long as he could before they both found release.

Yohji slumped against him, spent, Aya's cries still echoing in his ears. Abruptly he gave a small laugh and Aya punched him weakly.

"If I was bad, tell me," he ordered in fond scolding. "But don't _laugh_ at me."

Yohji gave another chuckle, nuzzling closer.

"I love you so much, Aya," he whispered against his skin.

"Mm."

The blonde gave himself a few more moments to rest before rising.

"I'll be right back."

"Mn."

He left the room, returning soon with a damp washcloth, and couldn't help but to smirk as he realized the smaller man had already fallen asleep. Aya didn't stir even as Yohji gently cleaned him up, tossing the washcloth to the floor before climbing into bed beside him.

He pulled the sheets up around their shoulders before gathering the slumbering redhead close and closing his eyes.

He would never be able to explain, he reflected as he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his lips, how, despite all the sex infamous man-whore Yohji Kudoh had had in his life, he had never truly enjoyed it until this moment.

He let himself slip off to sleep, hoping for dreams of a scantily-dressed Aya throwing a stick named Bob into a roaring fire.

Even asleep, Yohji Kudoh continued to grin, snuggling closer to his lover.

* * *

To Be Continued.

If you liked it, please let me know. If you didn't, don't bother. In fact, if you didn't like it, go and yell at Dark Avalon. She's the one who told me it was okay for posting. As my closest friend, she should be held responsible anyway, don't you think?

If I get booted off the site for this, you're all going to come visit me on whatever other page I find to post this on, right?

Still looking for a really good summery of the last episode of Gluhen. The entire fate of this series rests on that one episode. I am trying to find the tapes, but there's no telling how long that'll take here in hicksville, and even with access to the movies, I'll need something written for reference, anyway.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**CaT70** - still sad?

**Kirai** - thanks; glad you liked. But don't be too hard on them. They think they're doing the right thing.

**glinwulf **- a valid thought to be sure, but Aya doesn't actually hate the name - he protests on principle. People can have nicknames for others that are a little silly and embarrassing for the one they're intended for; it's just one the of many ways Yohji flirts. Anyway, thanks for reading. As for the Gluhen, I can't comment about it right now. Everything hinges on that last episode. I never said I was pulling for a happy ending, anyway.

**JB** - indeed; it can be difficult. If Omi and Aya-chan knew the crap that Aya's put Yohji through, they wouldn't be nearly so hard on the poor guy...

All right, see you all next chapter...I hope. Thanks for reading.


	15. Yohji Has the Last Word

Big thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter; you have no idea how much the support means to me.

Super big thanks to the awesome **Akira** for stealing Gluhen from a friend and writing me a summery. Muffins for you. (Eh...mind if I bug you when/if I have questions?)

Enjoy the happy times, folks. That's all I gotta say.

* * *

Bright sunlight hit his eyes and Aya frowned to himself, turning his back on the window as he sleepily wondered why he hadn't closed the curtains before going to sleep.

He snuggled more deeply into his pillow, warm beneath the sheets and comfortable beyond belief. A scent surrounded him, a spicy, familiar cologne he knew he recognized but didn't belong to him.

He shifted to find the most comfortable position, and his body gave its protest in the form of a quiet ache. No doubt he had overdone it at the gym again.

He didn't want to ever get up, he decided. For once in his life, he wanted to indulge on a whim and just stay in bed all day. It wouldn't hurt anything for him to do it just this once, would it?

Aya's eyes snapped open and he sat up, blinking at the alarm clock.

His first thought was that he was going to be late for work.

His second thought was the realization that he was nude.

His sharp eyes scanned the room and alighted on the duffel bag by the door. That bag didn't belong to him.

Yawning, the former swordsman forced himself to get out of bed, scowling when his foot descended on a slightly soggy washcloth.

"Kudoh."

* * *

Yohji froze, heart leaping up into his throat as he thought he heard a door open down the hall. He waited, frozen, for a few moments, but when there was nothing else he passed it off as nerves and turned his attention back to the food cooking on the stove.

Yohji wasn't just scared – he was fucking terrified. Any moment he was expecting to hear an angry cry from down the hall. Already in his mind he could see the anger on Aya's face as he kicked him from the apartment.

Last night had simply been too good to be true. There had to be some horrible truth waiting – Aya had been drunk, Aya had only wanted to get back at the others, Aya hadn't really wanted to do anything; Yohji had only assumed he had.

The disastrous possibilities kept playing themselves over in his head in a painful, merciless loop. Once again Yohji had made a mistake, and he would have to pay for it – just as soon as Aya woke up.

Yohji piled the pancakes onto a plate and turned to place them on the table.

He jumped at the sight of Aya in the kitchen doorway. The red haired young man was dressed in an ugly, shapeless gray sweat suit, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

Yohji had never seen anything so breathtakingly beautiful in his entire life.

The blonde managed a weak smile.

"Morning, bunny thong," he greeted shakily. "Hungry?"

It was impossible to read the pale man's expression as he held out his hand.

"What is this?"

"A washcloth." Yohji answered warily.

"It was on the floor."

Yohji swallowed nervously – Aya's voice was so _cold_. He decided to act as if nothing could possibly be wrong, and play it innocent when Aya began to yell.

"Well, sex tends to be messy, bunny thong," he answered as breezily as he could, "And I didn't think you'd wanna wake up covered in-"

"Why was it on the floor?" Aya interrupted.

"Uh…" Yohji answered intelligently.

Aya passed him and tossed the washcloth into the small laundry basket he kept by the garbage can.

"Don't leave it on the floor next time," he ordered coldly. He turned back to Yohji at last, squinting at him. "Why are you so jumpy?" he asked sharply.

"Uh…"

Aya yawned, running a hand through his hair.

"Can you hand me the phone?" he asked. "I need to call work and tell them I'm running late."

"I already called them." Yohji answered quietly. "I told them you were sick and that you couldn't come in today."

"You did?"

Yohji looked away.

"I thought we should stay together today," he told him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "In case…you know…in case there were any problems."

Silence.

Yohji froze as he felt a pair of long arms wrap themselves around him from behind, a sharp chin coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Why are you acting this way?" Aya asked, voice almost amused. "Didn't I tell you I wanted you to stay last night? Didn't I promise not to get mad at you?"

"Yeah, but…"

Aya sighed.

"I _will_ be mad at you if you keep acting like such a moron," the former swordsman informed him, nuzzling close. "It's only cute for the first few minutes."

"I've waited so long to be with you." Yohji whispered.

"Now you don't have to wait any more."

"I just don't want anything to ruin this."

"Tell me you love me." Aya requested quietly.

"I love you."

Aya released him and Yohji found a smile on the red haired young man's face as he turned to face him. The blonde relaxed, at last reassured that the haven he had woken to would not be taken away.

Yohji reached forward to brush hair out of his lover's eyes, returning his smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful." Aya answered.

Yohji cocked his head to the side, peering at him.

"No regrets?"

"None."

"Want to quit your job and become my personal love toy?"

Smile slipping from his face, Aya hit him.

"Idiot," he grumbled, turning away.

Yohji laughed.

* * *

Finished with his breakfast, Aya rose to put his dishes in the sink and tried to ignore the feel of his companion's eyes following him.

This was an entirely new world – one which Aya had no idea how to respond to. Breakfast had passed pleasantly enough, but every time Yohji looked at him, Aya couldn't help but to think about what had happened last night. He couldn't bring himself to fully believe it had happened. There was plenty of evidence, but it still seemed unreal to him.

He had _slept_ with _Yohji Kudoh_.

Yohji had been…_with_ him.

And he had _enjoyed _it.

Arms closed behind him from behind and pulled him close against a strong, familiar chest. He closed his eyes as Yohji nuzzled his neck, reluctantly relaxing in the other man's embrace.

"You okay, bunny thong?" Yohji murmured.

"I said I was, didn't I?"

"Yea, but," Yohji pulled Aya's hair back to bare the side of his neck and softly kissed him right under the ear. "You've been so quiet."

"I'm always quiet."

"Not this quiet. Not unless you're angry or upset about something."

"I'm not angry or upset."

"But?"

Aya fell silent, thinking of how _right_ it felt to be in Yohji's arms. It had always felt right.

"I need a shower," he said at last.

"You didn't answer my question."

Aya snorted softly, smiling to himself. Yohji knew him far too well.

"How do you know I'm just not a morning person?"

"I lived with you for years, man."

"Years in which I was always quiet," he pointed out.

Yohji sighed and released him.

"Are we really going to fight?"

Reluctantly, Aya turned to face him. Yohji was beautiful in the soft morning light that came through the windows, his golden hair tied back in a low, messy tail. Barefoot, he wore nothing but jeans, and as Aya trailed his eyes down his lover's naked chest, he found himself wondering if the man wore anything under said jeans or if the thick materiel were all that stood between him and his lover's golden skin.

_Dangerous_, his instincts screamed.

"Hey," Yohji grinned. "Eyes up here, buddy."

Aya glared, then sighed.

"This is just going to take a little while for me to get used to," he admitted at last. "It's…weird."

"Weird?"

"I can't explain it."

Yohji shifted closer, trapping Aya against the counter as he let his hands come to rest on the redhead's slim hips. "Aya?" he grinned. "Love?"

"What?" Aya grumped.

Yohji leaned forward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. Aya moaned and tried to follow when Yohji pulled away.

"Do you like it when we do that?" the blonde asked, resting his forehead against Aya's.

It took the former swordsman three times before he could speak.

"Yes."

Yohji grinned, burying one hand in Aya's hair as he kissed him again, this time more deeply than before. Aya caught his face in his hands to keep him from moving away before he was satisfied.

When at last they were forced to pull apart for air, Aya was far more comfortable and far less worried than he had been before. Had Yohji's hips not been pinning him to the cabinets, Aya wasn't certain he would still be standing.

"And you like that?" Yohji asked, voice gone husky, nipping at his lips again.

"Gods, yes."

"Then what's the problem?" the blonde teased.

"We won't have a problem if you'll kiss me like that again."

"I think I can manage that."

* * *

Not even half the seats were filled yet, but already the auditorium felt noisy, hot, and crowded. Frankly, Aya didn't know how the rest of the crowd outside was ever going to fit _inside_.

"Is it good?"

"For this being your first concert?" Aya looked at Narumoto and managed to smile at the visibly-nervous young man. "It's amazing."

"What if I mess up?"

Letting his hand fall from the curtain, Aya turned fully toward the boy.

"You know the music, and you know the dances," he stated. "Why would you mess up?"

Narumoto scowled at him, nervousness momentarily replaced by annoyance.

"You could at least try to be helpful, you know."

"I'm not being helpful? You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. I've already filled my helpfulness quota, as far as you're concerned."

Narumoto blinked.

"Was that a joke?"

"…no."

* * *

Aya shook his head as he entered his apartment and found Yohji asleep on the couch.

"Kudoh, you broke into my place again?" he sighed, letting the door slam closed behind him.

Yohji jerked awake, offering a halfhearted glare as he yawned and scratched his head.

"If you'd a' let me come to the concert with you, I woulda' been with you and wouldn't have had to break in," he pointed out with the logic of a sleepy blonde.

Aya rolled his eyes.

"I was nervous enough, thank you. I didn't need you there molesting me all night."

"Well, can I molest you _now_?" Yohji asked, suddenly seeming far more awake.

"I should tell you no," he frowned.

"But?"

"Nothing. I _should_ tell you no."

Yohji rose and came to him, and Aya wondered how the man would manage to look so sexy when he had just woken up.

"I'm tired," he glared.

"Tomorrow is the weekend."

"Yohji!"

The blonde picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry despite the sudden round of furious kicking and death threats, and carried him off to the bedroom.

* * *

He was so very warm and comfortable. Half asleep, he never wanted to move again. If he could just stay as he was for the rest of his life, he would be content.

The body beside him shifted slightly, bare calve sliding across his equally-bare thigh, and Yohji Kudoh smiled to himself.

No, he decided, he was willing to stir.

If stirring would lead to wake-up sex.

Maybe in a few moments, he thought to himself, eyes drifting closed.

His lover fit so perfectly against his side, he reflected, enjoying the weight of the young man currently using him as a pillow. In fact, Aya was too perfect to be true, and Yohji loved him far too much for this to be real. He had never felt anything this strongly before – not love nor hate nor joy nor pain.

The phone on the nightstand began to ring, and Aya groaned, burying his face against Yohji's shoulder.

"'S all right, love." Yohji assured him groggily, kissing the top of his head as he fumbled for the phone. "I got it."

Finding the phone at last, he managed to answer before the fourth ring.

"'Lo?"

"Aya?" a voice he knew he should recognize asked.

"No." Why couldn't he recognize that voice? "'S Yohji."

Silence a long moment. When the speaker spoke again, his voice was annoyed.

"Can I speak to Aya, please?"

"Try calling at a decent hour, ass hat," he slammed the receiver back down and turned to spoon his lover. Aya was too sleepy to bother scolding him for being rude on the phone.

Yohji was nearly asleep again when the phone began to ring once more.

"Answer it." Aya ordered.

Making an annoyed sound, Yohji sat up and grabbed the phone.

"_What?"_

"Yohji, did you just call Omi an ass hat?"

He blinked. "No."

"You didn't? You didn't call him an ass hat and hang up on him a few moments ago?"

"Who is this?"

"Yohji!"

"No it's not."

"Put Aya on the phone!"

"Aya's sleeping – like any normal person would be."

"Yohji, it's nearly ten o'clock in the fucking morning."

He blinked.

"_Ken_?"

"Give me the phone." Aya mumbled.

"You sure?"

Aya nodded, sitting up and holding out his hand expectantly.

"Ken?" Yohji asked into the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Upset him and I'll gut you."

Considerably cheered, Yohji handed the phone to his lover.

"Hello?" Aya asked, tone borderline-cold. He wouldn't be ready for full-blown glacier until he'd been awake for at least a few more hours.

Yohji settled back against the pillows, content to listen to his lover argue with his former teammate.

* * *

"Hi, Aya." Ken sounded a little nervous – which didn't lessen the redhead's annoyance with him. "Not like you to sleep in this late, is it?"

"I had a late night."

"Yohji come over to…erm…wake you?"

"He spent the night, Ken."

"Right."

A long, awkward silence. Aya's nerves were stretched and broken.

"If the only reason you called was to check up on my sleeping arrangements, Hideka…"

"No! No, um…"

"Hideka."

"Omi wants to have another get-together," he blurted.

"No."

"But - !"

"It's not a good idea," he snapped. "Not when you all seem inclined to dictate the course of my life."

"I'll put Omi on the line."

"No! Hideka, don't you _dare_ - !"

"Hello? Aya?"

"Hello, Omi," he sighed.

* * *

Yohji began to grin as he realized that Ken was putting Omi on the phone. Both Yohji and Aya were currently more than annoyed with the boy, but that didn't make him any less difficult to argue with.

Closing his eyes, Yohji listened to his lover argue with the chibi of Weiss, snickering when the man finally broke down and agreed to whatever it was their former teammate was suggesting.

"I tried." Aya sighed as he hung up the phone. Yohji grabbed him and pulled him down atop him.

"Poor baby."

"He's got this…_thing_ planned for tomorrow evening."

"Boy doesn't like to plan things too far ahead, does he?"

"Takes away our chance to cancel on him," the redhead sighed.

Yohji rolled them so that he was on top, and grinned down at his lover.

"Let me take your mind off it, love."

* * *

To Be Continued

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**talietim** - happy to oblige!

**Moon without a Sun** - well, it's a good word to be stuck on.

**CaT70** - thanks!

**JB** - glad you liked it! Well, if you ever have the time. I know different points of view would be helpful (people intrepret eps in different ways) but not if you have to go to any trouble, since I now have the answers I needed.

When bridges are burned, a fire is created. After the inferno, there is only the water that rested beneath. See ya next time.


	16. Shatter

This chapter is one which has been planned for since the very beginning. While it didn't turn out exactly as I had in mind (and what does, really?) I'm happy with it, overall.

Regadless of the correct spelling of Ken's name, I have decided to leave it the way I have it. I just _can't_ type it the other way. It looks wrong. Please forgive me the misuse of one letter.

Okay, guys…don't hate me for this, okay?

* * *

"Do you need anything, Yohji?" Aya asked, approaching where the blonde was grilling out with Omi.

The youngest former member of Weiss had planned this new get-together to try to make up for the disaster of the last one. Grilling out at the park, he'd decided, would be the perfect, casual way to get everyone comfortable and talking. When Yohji had volunteered to do the cooking, Omi had insisted on helping him.

It was a good day for their picnic. The weather had begun warming up a few weeks ago and today was almost hot.

Yohji couldn't help but to grin at his lover, finding him too adorable for words. Aya was dressed in a pair of faded, ripped jeans and one of Yohji's t-shirts. The shirt was much too large for him, hitting him almost mid-thigh. He had tied his hair back in a low, tight tail.

Yohji wanted nothing more than to hug him – to hold him close to his side and announce to the world that he was his lover. Yohji wasn't sure what, exactly, it was about the outfit, but every time he glanced at the smaller man, he couldn't help but to grin.

"We're fine, bunny thong," he drawled, "What; you don't want to play with the others?"

Aya glanced across the park, where Aya-chan, Ken, and Miyoko were playing volleyball.

"No," he said simply, sitting down at the picnic table.

"You let him call you '_bunny thong_'?" Omi asked.

Aya's head shot up as Yohji began to laugh, and he glared.

"I don't like it," Aya said at last, "But I won't kill him for it."

"And I'm ever so grateful." Yohji chuckled.

Omi frowned, but wisely chose not to say anything.

Yohji idly wondered what the well-meaning chibi would think if he learned that he was partially responsible for Yohji and Aya now sleeping together.

Aya rolled his eyes, but offered Yohji a small smile that only made Omi frown all the harder.

This did not escape Aya's notice.

"Omi. Sit down."

"But…"

"Yohji can handle the burgers alone – at least, he can if he stops staring at me for long enough to keep the food from burning. Think you can handle that, Kudoh?"

"I guess I can try," the blonde sighed.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to eavesdrop.

Omi couldn't hide a small sigh as he put down the tongs and moved to sit with Aya.

It was clear that the younger boy was a little frightened of being left alone under the scrutiny of his former leader, but really it was all he deserved for thinking to interfere with their relationship.

Yohji smirked to himself, prepared for some fun.

* * *

Aya fixed his steady, intense, unreadable stare on Omi until the young man felt like a child who had been caught doing something wrong.

"Omi," Aya began at last, then sighed and closed his eyes. Over the years, Omi had learned that he only did that when he was trying _not_ to glare at someone. "Omi, here's your only chance. Tell me _exactly_ why you oppose my being with Yohji."

"You lived with him for as long as I did." Omi reminded him. "He goes through lovers like candy!"

Aya opened his eyes, and he _wasn't_ glaring. Omi had never seen his eyes so hurt and vulnerable. He quickly reached across the table to grasp his friend's hand and lowered his voice, hoping Yohji wasn't listening in.

"Weiss is my family, Aya. I just don't want to see you hurt!"

"Yohji is Weiss, too. Doesn't he deserve a chance at happiness as much as the rest of us?"

"But, you - !"

"He's suffered, too, Omi. He just shows it differently. You should be _happy_ that we're together. We're happy. He loves me so much, Omi, he really does. You have no idea how long he waited or how much I put him through or how scared he was…"

"I wasn't scared." Yohji interrupted, proving that he was, indeed, listening.

"Can't you believe that this is real?" Aya asked quietly.

"Do you love him, too?" Omi asked.

At the grill, Yohji grew very still, listening.

Aya paled.

"I don't know." He answered at last. "If I were going to love anyone, he would be the one. But I don't know if I'm capable of something like that…I'm sorry, Yohji."

"You love me," the blonde drawled, not looking at either of them. "I don't have to hear it."

For a moment, Omi wondered if Yohji was lying.

But _Yohji_ was the one who hurt his lovers, not Aya. Aya was the one who needed to be protected.

"Yohji is very, very important to me, Omi. I care for him, and I trust him."

"But what if he cheats on you?"

"I would be devastated," he admitted, "And he would wake up one day to find that his genitals have been non-too-gently removed. But I told you, I trust him. He won't cheat on me, and not just because I scare him. I just know he won't. You know I don't give out that much trust so easily."

* * *

Aya did love him – Yohji was sure of it.

No one else was allowed to touch the man – to kiss him and hold him.

No one else in the entire world had seen him stretched out pale and perfect, completely trusting, in bed. No one else had seen his eyes when they went dark with lust, or heard the small, delicious noises he made while gripped in the throes of passion.

No one else knew the sweetness of waking to find the man asleep beside him.

Still…

It might be nice to hear the words.

Yohji blinked, realized he was about to burn the food, and quickly pulled it off the grill.

"Grub's ready," he called to everyone. Aya looked at him sharply, and he wondered if his voice had given away anything unfortunate.

The others came from their game laughing and flushed with exertion as they sat down at the table.

Was it Yohji's imagination, or did the happiness somewhat fade from Aya-chan's face as he sat down next to her brother?

All laughter fell away within a few moments as a nearly palpable awkwardness fell across the entire table.

Yohji noticed Aya eating very, very slowly. The man couldn't eat when he was upset – a fact Yohji had learned all the back in Weiss.

"So, ah…how about this crazy weather?" Ken asked finally, forcing a laugh. When no one tried to answer, he laughed again. "Yeah; it's really crazy. It has to be close to eighty today, huh? And it's barely springtime!"

"Global warming!" Miyoko piped in.

"All the plants think it's spring," Ken nodded. "They're all doomed if we get a late frost."

"It's just wrong." Aya-chan said softly.

"You mean that humanity could do this to their very home?" Miyoko asked.

"No," Aya-chan dabbed her mouth daintily with her napkin, staring down at her plate. "I mean Ran and Kudoh-san."

"All right."

Too words, nearly too quiet to be heard, but they gained the attention of everyone at the table. Aya rose, eyes gone cold. For a moment it seemed that he was about to say something, but he changed his mind.

"Guess that's my cue," Yohji sighed, rising and following.

He had to break into a jog to catch up with the smaller man, and when he did, Aya ignored him completely. Yohji couldn't think of anything he, personally, had done wrong…

But then again…

"Aya?" he asked tentatively once they were in the car.

"Take me home, Yohji."

"Right," he sighed, starting the engine.

Aya was silent the entire drive.

He was silent in the elevator.

Yohji hesitated outside the door to the smaller man's apartment.

"D'ya want me to…?"

A sharp nod.

Aya's hand shook as he tried to unlock the door, so Yohji gently took the keys from him.

Once the door was open, he followed him inside.

Almost immediately, Aya was in his arms.

Yohji closed his arms slowly around the small, trembling form, gently pulling him close.

"Aya?"

And then, Aya…broke.

* * *

The tears came before he could stop them, a hot, horrid torrent of pain and anger and betrayal. It wasn't because of Aya-chan's disapproval, _or_ Omi's questioning.

It was everything that had ever hurt him that he hadn't allowed himself to mourn.

All he knew was that he was _home_, and he was _safe_ and Yohji was _there_ with love and understanding that he knew he didn't deserve but was more than willing to accept.

He was shaking so bad he could hardly stand, so Yohji lifted him up into his arms and carried him to the bedroom.

Yohji stretched out next to him on the bed and held him close, one hand in his hair, the other moving comfortingly along his back. Aya wished the other man would hold him more tightly – hold him tightly enough to hurt. The man was so gentle it was maddening – how was he supposed to distract himself from this nightmare is Yohji was going to be so damned _nice_?

"It's all right, baby," Yohji was whispering in his ear. "It's all right."

"It _hurts_."

"It's all right – it's supposed to hurt, love." Yohji kissed his temple, too terribly wonderful for words.

"No…"

"You're allowed to feel this, Aya. You need it."

"No."

"It's all right, bunny thong. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

Aya only sobbed harder.

Body quaking, face soaked with tears, Aya Fujimiya let himself _feel_ for the first time in years.

He cried and let Yohji hold him and comfort him and slowly the ache that had always filled his heart began to ease.

When the tears finally stopped and he found himself drifting off to sleep, Aya knew that something broken within him had begun to heal.

* * *

Yohji watched his lover fall asleep in his arms, and he felt terror.

It had never occurred to him that Aya could cry like that – that the man was capable of such a strong display of emotion. He had known of the man's pain, but never taken the time to consider the full _weight_ of that pain.

An now Yohji was terrified.

Closing his eyes, he sent up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening – a plea that he never, ever do anything to add to his lover's pain.

A plea that one day Aya find true happiness – and that Yohji be there to help bring about that happiness.

* * *

To Be Continued

Very short chapter, but it least it was released quickly, right? And the next one will be, too. Promise.

We're getting very, very close to the end here, and the ideas for the following stories are falling into place like magic. Things might get painful – bear with us.

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Kirai** - Awwwwwww; you're so sweet to me!

**talietim** - I'm actually finished - I just need to post the rest of the chapters. Bridges will end at chapter 21. Thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoy it!

**CaT70** - LOL; thanks! Yes, Yohji's vocabulary is a very bad influence...

**JB** - kaykay


	17. Embracing Weakness

Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter.

This chapter gives Aya a chance to be normal.

* * *

Aya awoke alone, and felt both fear and relief.

Fear, because he thought there might be a chance Yohji would have seen his breakdown for the weakness it was.

And relief, because he _needed_ a few moments alone.

His mind felt clean and fresh, free of its usual darkness. He felt well-rested, and realized that sometime after he had fallen asleep, Yohji must have undressed him. He could only feel grateful for that thoughtfulness – he hated to fall asleep in his clothes. He trusted completely that Yohji would not have done anything…untoward

Strange that he still wasn't certain he could trust the man with his heart.

Aya's breaking had destroyed, at least temporarily, the last of his mask. Yohji would never again see him as the strong and dependable man who had led Weiss.

Was that all right, Aya wondered? Was he _allowed_ to be weak and frightened and sad now? Would Yohji still be able to love him now that he had learned how fragile he really was?

The darkness began to seep back into his mind, ushered in by the sudden doubts.

The door opened, and Yohji walked in with a tray of food. He wore a smile, and not much else.

"Please tell me you didn't cook in your underwear." Aya blurted.

Yohji stumbled a step.

"What?"

"It's unsanitary."

"Unsanitary or not, you should be appreciative." Yohji informed him with a pout. "I worked my ass off so I could bring you breakfast in bed."

"I hope you didn't." Aya glared as Yohji sat down beside him.

"Huh?"

"Work your ass off. I said I hoped you didn't. I rather like it."

A full, boyish grin spread across his handsome face as Yohji gave a burst of surprised laughter. The hint of unease that had been hiding in his expression vanished.

"_There's_ that sharp-tongued little charmer I fell in love with."

"And do you remain in love with him?" Aya questioned as idly as possible, plucking a piece of bacon off the plate and nibbling it, refusing to meet his lover's eyes.

Yohji kissed him quickly on the cheek.

"There's nothing you can ever do to make me stop, bunny thong," he murmured quietly, voice gone so husky and intimate that Aya found himself closing his eyes and leaning in closer.

"Tell me you love me," he whispered.

Yohji kissed his cheek again, and Aya could feel him smile against his skin.

"I love you. I'll always love you. You're everything to me."

"Don't ever leave me, Yohji," he whispered, taking a shuddering breath.

"I won't. Not ever. I promise."

"No matter how weak I am?"

Yohji tenderly brushed long strands of hair from Aya's eyes.

"You aren't weak, Aya," he swore gravely. "You're human. It's nice to be reminded of that sometimes…nice to know that you need me and that you aren't as perfect as you seem. If anything, it makes me love you more."

"Thank you, Yohji."

The blonde pulled him into his arms, kissing him gently.

"What do I have to do to prove to you how much you mean to me?"

"Nothing." Aya answered truthfully. "Just be patient…it's going to take a while for me to get used to the idea that this is real."

"I'll give you all the time you need, bunny thong. Don't you know I'd do anything for you?"

"I appreciate you bringing me breakfast."

"No problem."

"Do I have to eat it, though?"

Yohji pulled back.

"Why?"

Strangely, Aya found himself blushing.

"I can think of better things to do in bed," he answered at last.

* * *

Aya missed work both Monday and Tuesday, preferring to spend those days allowing himself to be weak – allowing Yohji to take care of him.

The only reason he worked in the first place was to have something to do with his days. Without his sister's hospital bills to worry about, the bulk of Aya's savings from his time as an assassin was going unused. The redhead might even have enough in savings that he wouldn't have to work at all if he didn't want to.

Yohji was relishing the new level their relationship had taken on. Having Aya _need_ him was too amazing for words.

And seeing trust and affection and hope shine in those violet eyes was a treasure he had never dreamed he would one day possess.

"We could leave the city," Yohji suggested Tuesday afternoon. He had managed to convince Aya that a "lazy day" was perfectly normal and managed to coax the man onto the couch to watch movies despite the fact they had spent so much of the previous day in bed.

Aya, snuggled closely to his side, didn't so much as lift his head.

"Hm?"

"Just picture it – a little house way out in the country where no one could find us. Just you and me, all alone with our love."

"We would end up hating each other if we were that isolated."

"Aw, c'mon. Just picture it. We could have a big front porch with rocking chairs, and when we're old and our hips are too brittle for sex, he can sit in those chairs and _talk_ about sex."

There was a smile in Aya's voice.

"You disturb me sometimes, Yohji."

"Only sometimes? I must be losing my touch." Yohji let his fingertips play along the bare skin of Aya's arm, coaxing out goosebumps and a delightful little shiver. "It's sad to think about though," the blonde decided.

"What is?"

"That one day we'll be too old for sex."

"By that time, Yohji, we won't be interested in sex anymore." Aya sighed and snuggled closer. Yohji took great pleasure in the fact he didn't argue with his assumption that they would still be together when they were that old. "All we'll care about is bingo."

"You honestly can't see me in a walker, chasing you around the cruise deck? How depressing." Yohji let his hand casually drop into Aya's lap. "So, if we're going to be like that one day and we know it, don't you think we should fool around while we still have the chance?"

"What – on the couch?"

"We've never done it here before?"

"We've never done it outside the bedroom."

"Or the shower." Yohji reminded him.

"Or the shower." Aya agreed.

* * *

They were dozing on the living room floor when the phone began to ring. Aya managed to answer it before it woke Yohji.

"Hello?"

"Don't hang up on me."

Narrowing his eyes, Aya managed to squirm from Yohji's arms and sit up.

"You still there?"

"Hold on."

Rising, Aya managed to throw on some clothes, then, with a glance at the slumbering Yohji, removed himself to the kitchen.

"What the hell do you want, Hidaka?" he demanded at last.

"Why are you mad at me? I don't care if you fuck Yohji."

Aya paused a moment, then switched the phone to his other ear as he moved to put some water on the stove to boil it.

"You don't?" he asked at last.

"You know Omi – he thinks he has to protect everyone."

"I _don't_ need protection."

"Hell no you don't – which is why I don't care. I have to admit that it was a little creepy at first, but as long as you don't _do_ anything in front of me, then there's nothing for us to have a problem with."

Aya closed his eyes, leaning back against the counter.

"Thank you, Ken."

Ken coughed, obviously uncomfortable.

"Right…uh…yeah. Anyway, Miyo thought I should call and make sure you knew that we were okay. _I_ didn't want to bother you, but…"

"No, I appreciate it. Thank her for me."

"So…is Yohji with you right now?"

"He's asleep. We're having a lazy day."

"Lazy? You?"

"Shocking, isn't it?" he asked dryly, taking the now-boiling water off the stove.

Silence passed for a moment, then Ken sighed.

"Do you ever miss the old days, Aya?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.

"I do. I miss Weiss…my family. Do you think we'll ever be friends again?"

"You and I, or the whole group in general?" Aya asked, pouring the water into a mug and dipping in a tea bag.

"I don't know. Both. Either."

"I don't know." Aya admitted.

Ken sighed. "Me neither. Hey, hold on a minute," he spoke to Miyoko for a moment, muffling the receiver. "Aya?" he asked at last.

"Hn?"

"You think you and Yohji would be willing to go out with Miyo and me sometime?"

Aya hesitated.

"I'd have to ask him, but it's probably possible," he answered at last.

"Have to ask me what?" Yohji yawned, padding into the kitchen.

Aya quickly covered the receiver with his hand.

"How do you know I'm talking about you?"

"Oh, I _know_, baby."

"For gods' sake, Yohji, put some clothes on."

"Why?"

"It's unsanitary to be naked in the kitchen!"

"Fine, fine." Yohji grumbled, stalking back out.

"You still there, Ken?" Aya asked, sitting down at the table with his tea.

"Yeah. Do I want to know what's going on over there?"

"Probably not." Aya smiled to himself, surprised by how good it felt to be talking to his teammate again.

A small laugh sounded from the other line.

"Why don't we ever talk anymore, Aya?" the brunette asked, as if he had read Aya's thoughts.

"I'm antisocial."

"Really? I never would have guessed."

"Ass."

"Who's an ass?" Yohji asked, kissing the top of his head as he re-entered the kitchen.

"Ken."

"Oh…there was some kind of argument that he wasn't?"

"I heard that!" Ken protested.

"He heard that." Aya told Yohji.

"Good. Hiya, Ken-Ken!" he called with false cheer. "Fucker!"

"Tell him I love him, too."

Aya dutifully relayed the message and Yohji chuckled.

"You make fresh coffee yet, bunny thong?"

"No; I didn't want the smell to wake you."

"Either you're sweet, or you're a perv who was planning to molest me while I was unconscious." Yohji kissed the top of his head again, giving his shoulders a warm squeeze. "Either way, I'm flattered."

Yohji passed by to make coffee, and only then did Aya realize that, though the man had put on a shirt, he hadn't bothered with pants or underwear.

"Kudoh!"

"What?" the blonde asked innocently.

"What's going on over there?"

"Ken? I'm going to have to call you back."

Aya hung up before his former teammate could respond, and rose quickly from his chair.

He knew the expression on his face must have been truly dangerous, because Yohji began to laugh, holding out his arms to him.

Aya came willingly into the embrace, reaching around to pinch one bare cheek hard enough to make Yohji yelp and release him.

"No. Naked. In. The. Kitchen." he glared.

Yohji only pouted.

* * *

To Be Continued

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**CaT70 - **Ah Bob...do you really think he's so easy to kill?

**glinwulf - **thank you very much!

**talietim - **Oh, I would never, ever consider leaving Aya out, trust me. I love him too much to ever consider it - especially after this fic. And don't wory; the weiss boys live in my head now - I doubt I'll ever lose interest in writing about them. (As if they'd let me, anyway...)

Thanks again, everyone! The countdown has begun; only four chapters left!


	18. Advantage

Aya is under a lot of stress. Please keep that in mind.

* * *

"Glad to see you're feeling better."

He jumped, spinning to face Satoshi Morita with surprise.

"What?" he asked intelligently.

"You've been missing a lot of work lately," the large man answered with a smile. "I assumed you were ill."

Aya flashed guiltily on his recent 'lazy days' with Yohji, then quickly dismissed the guilt. He wouldn't have traded that time with his lover for anything. He had the right to be selfish once in a while, he told himself - only half believing it. Was it so wrong for him to be with the one he loved?

No, he decided, unwilling to open himself further to the question.

"Oh…it was nothing. Just a virus." he lied.

Morita raised an eyebrow. "A virus named Kudoh, per chance?"

Too startled for subtlety, Aya stopped in his tracks. Morita laughed and winked gustily at him.

"Don't worry; I won't tell anyone." he promised.

Aya gave a slight smile in gratitude, but a cold knot of unease had fallen into his stomach. Aya told himself that he was being stupid and fought to ignore the tangle of old instincts that screamed at him that Morita was standing too close.

This wasn't the first time the man had shown an interest in his relationship with Yohji, those instincts reminded him. He had no reason to ask so many questions.

No, reason argued. He was only curious. Everyone was, but no one else was brave enough to question him.

"Your boy – what's his name? Nama…Nana…"

"Narumoto."

"Right, right. Narumoto. He's doing some impressive work. I know that Nakemura is pleased with the work you've done with the boy."

"He has talent." Aya answered, beginning to walk again.

Morita followed.

"Talent or no – it's all your hard work that's gotten him so far. It's very impressive."

"It's what I'm being paid for."

"Of course, of course," Morita laughed. "You have to admit though, it is a remarkable streak of good luck you've been having."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"You're too new to the business to have earned much of a reputation yet, and the boy is a complete unknown – but suddenly he's the hottest new star to hit Japan in years." Morita smiled, and Aya felt the inexplicable urge to bathe. "People are going to question how you've become so successful."

"People are idiots."

"Nevertheless, your pretty face is only going to get you so far, Fujimiya," the large man gave a laugh, clapping Aya on the back. "Eventually, you're going to have to do something else to…_convince_…people, right?"

Aya felt his entire body go cold as the man ran a finger down the length of his arm.

"Take your hand off me," he ordered in a voice that hadn't been heard since the last time he had committed murder.

Morita either didn't catch the dangerous ice, or didn't care. "Oh, come now, Fujimiya," he chided. "Don't play innocent with me."

"You ready to go, bunny thong?"

Morita literally jumped. Yohji was standing at the end of the hall, just outside the door to Aya's office. He stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking achingly safe and beautiful and trustworthy.

"Just give me a few moments, Yohji, and I'll get my stuff." the former swordsman answered with a grateful smile, pulling away.

Yohji gave Morita a mad grin before following Aya into his office.

"Not a word." Aya ordered as he heard the door close behind them.

"Sure love. Just as soon as you tell me that I didn't see what I thought I just saw."

Aya sighed, reluctantly turning to face his lover.

"How am I supposed to know what it is you think you've seen?" he demanded, voice seeping back into coldness.

Yohji scowled darkly.

"He isn't allowed to do that, Aya."

Aya took a deep breath, realizing with a sense of warmth that his lover had not jumped to insane conclusions, and would not be accusing _him_ of doing anything.

What he was really trying to do was worse.

Too bad it was true.

"Drop it, Kudoh," he ordered, continuing to his desk. He was blindly loading things into his briefcase when he felt arms encircle him from behind.

"You got a lot of work to take home tonight, bunny thong?" Yohji asked, nibbling at his ear lobe.

"No," Aya answered warily. "Why?"

"You've packed your stapler and the computer mouse."

Aya blinked a few times.

"Oh."

Yohji sighed, brushing Aya's hair back gently so he could plant a tender kiss against the redhead's neck.

"Its okay, Aya," he soothed quietly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do – and it's okay. _Be_ upset, bunny thong. Be pissed as hell. I'm here – I'll shelter you."

Aya felt himself relaxing against his lover, and fought that peace with every stubborn fiber of his being.

"You can't always be here, Yohji."

"All you have to do is call."

He felt tears rising, and fought them with all his strength.

"I'm a full grown man. I should be able to take care of myself."

"No you shouldn't. It's natural to have someone you depend on – there's nothing wrong with that. And you've been taking care of things by yourself for far too long, anyway."

Though he fought it fiercely, Aya felt his eyes drifting closed under the gentle, soothing comfort that was Yohji Kudoh.

"You're the one who needs help right now," the blonde went on to explain. "But one day I'll have issues, and you'll be there for me."

Aya felt a tear slip down his cheek, but couldn't stop it.

"It's not like me to be so emotional, damn it."

"Your body knows that you're safe, sweetheart, even if your mind refuses to accept it. It knows that it's okay to release your pain - and you've got a hell of a lot of it to release."

"Don't call me 'sweetheart'."

"Why not?" he asked gently.

"I prefer the other."

"What - ? Oh." Yohji gave a low, masculine laugh, kissing his cheek. "Anything you want, bunny thong. I am yours to command."

Aya turned in Yohji's arms, burying his face against the taller man's chest and allowing himself at last to relax and accept the comfort.

Yohji's arms tightened around him until they were almost too tight – just the way that Aya liked it. "Don't bring up Morita again, all right?" Aya asked at last. "I'll handle him myself."

"If he touches you again," Yohji kissed the top of his head, "I'll fucking kill him."

"Fujimiya-san?"

Aya gave a small jump, pulling completely away from Yohji as he turned to face his secretary.

She stood in the doorway, pale enough to make him wonder how much she had heard.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm going home for the day," she said quickly. "Is there anything you need before I leave?"

"No, thank you. I…I'm being taken care of."

A bright blush spreading across her cheeks, she nodded and left quickly.

"You gonna unpack the stapler so we can go home now?" Yohji asked with a small grin.

Aya loved that grin. He had never seen his lover use it on anyone else. That tiny, boyish grin, and he was immediately filled with warmth and the certainty that the blonde loved him.

"Hold me for a little longer first," he requested.

Yohji, as always, was happy to oblige.

* * *

Ken had tried, as Miyoko had suggested, to give himself time to get used to the idea. He had distanced himself enough to be able to admit that he wanted his old friends to be happy and that they were, indeed, happy.

Still, it was _weird_.

Ken was not by any means homophobic. In fact, he himself had experimented a time or two with Kase. It wasn't the fact that they were both men that he found hard to accept.

It was the fact that _Aya_ was dating _Yohji_.

He had to admit that the relationship certainly seemed to be _good_ for the two men. Aya seemed to be as quiet and stubborn as he had always been, but he no longer radiated a simmering rage or an all-consuming sorrow.

The pale man seemed…content.

And Ken had never dreamed he would see his leader smile the way he smiled at Yohji.

As for the blonde…some of Aya's calm and dignity seemed to have rubbed off on him. Not a lot, but enough for there to be a marked difference.

Yohji was _sincere_ now.

Omi couldn't have been watching them very closely for him to have missed it.

Ken was positive; the two were in love, and love suited them beautifully.

Still, it was weird.

Every time he looked at them, Ken's mind forced him to think about things he would rather not – forced him to acknowledge that his two former teammates now shared something no one else would ever be able to share.

Did they cuddle in the kitchen like Ken and Miyo did? Did they have a song? A movie? What secret jokes and knowing looks did they share in the privacy of their own apartments?

It was weird.

Still, it was good for them.

* * *

"This was fun." Yohji said at last, waiting for Ken to pick up the check. He sounded somewhat surprised.

"Yeah, it was." Ken agreed, happy to pay for the meal the four of them had shared. The fact that the entire night had passed without anyone arguing – that somehow the rift in their friendship had begun to heal – was more than worth the cost.

He was reaching for the check when he found himself under the scrutiny of Aya's glare.

"What?"

"Don't. Yohji will pay."

"What? Why me? This was _his_ idea!"

The small redhead elbowed his lover sternly. "Pay," he ordered, the _or else_ left unspoken.

Yohji put on a show of rolling his eyes and sighing, but Ken suspected that the blonde was secretly enjoying the bullying.

He had always had a preference for the strange. Back in Weiss, Ken had quickly learned that being surprised by the man was just a waste of time.

"So…you guys wanna do this again sometime?" Ken asked, watching with amazement as Yohji gave his credit card to the waitress _without_ flirting. As the blonde turned his attention back to the table, he stretched casually and wrapped an arm around Aya's shoulders.

The one time _Ken_ had ever tried that move, he had nearly broken his date's nose.

"I dunno," Yohji drawled, clearly reluctant to make a decision without Aya's input. Ken found himself distracted watching the man's long fingers trace slowly up and down the arm of their former leader. "We'll see. Give me a call, all right?"

"It would be…fun." Aya said quietly. "But I need to check my schedule."

"Right, right, of course."

The waitress came back, breasts brushing Yohji's back as she bent to place his card and receipt back on the table.

The blonde ignored her – if anything, her actions made him frown a little. Aya glared at her, but she didn't seem to notice.

She did, however, notice when Yohji rose without leaving a tip.

"We're gonna call it an early night," Yohji explained to the others, pulling Aya to his side. "You two behave yourselves. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Ken grinned, "Considering what a short list that is."

The waitress watched them walk away before turning an expectant look on Ken. Guiltily he began reaching for his wallet, but Miyo stopped him with the gentle pressure of her hand on his arm.

"You shouldn't go after the married ones, hun." she told the woman sweetly.

Ken couldn't stop a chuckle as he allowed his girlfriend to pull him to his feet. 'Married' was a good way to describe the lovers. Ken had never seen a couple more attached.

"I like them." Miyo explained as they got into the car. "They're cute."

Once again Ken found himself amused by her choice of words, but he couldn't help but to agree.

"I'm glad you think so," the brunette grinned. "You can help me convince Omi and Aya-chan to lay off them, then."

"I'd love to."

Silence passed between them for a few moments.

Then:

"Ken? Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does he use his sister's name?"

* * *

To Be Continued

Another short one…but it's out quickly.

Only three chapters left, folks!

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Kirai** - Of course I will. And what other pairing exists for me? Yohji/Aya is too hot to pass up, my dear.

**CaT70** - "bitch face" ? See, you can come up with the lines, too! Yohji might have to borrow that one sometime.

**Acesha **- ah, but the dvds were stolen to help _me_, so it was worth it, right? (puppy eyes) Every time people tell me that they never read Yohji/Aya much before this, I can only blink in shock. To me, it's always been the most obvious pairing. I mean, look at them! My yaoi-dar picks up obvious sexual tension. (LOL) Wow. No one's ever given me a katana before. Thank you very much!

Look for another update on Thursday, everyone!


	19. Dark Plans

Things begin to happen a little more quickly from this point on. It's supposed to be that way. Chaotic, ya know?

* * *

It was nearly impossible to hear the music over the enthusiastic screaming of the crowd. Up on the stage, Narumoto looked like he had been doing this for ages.

For the first time, Aya had to admit that he was proud of the work he had done. For the first time in his life, Aya Fujimiya had earned money doing something _deserving_ of pride.

Narumoto's second concert had completely sold out, much to the boy's wide-eyed amazement. His singles were always being requested on the local radio stations, and the release of his first CD was an event that the ten to thirty-five age bracket was greatly anticipating.

Aya's cell phone began to ring, and he stepped outside to answer it.

A bullet sailed through the air, knocking his phone from his hand, and Aya instinctively dropped to the ground, rolling into a crouch as the second bullet flew overhead.

A muffled curse from somewhere above. Aya barely caught sight of a retreating form as he looked to the rooftops.

He waited several minutes, but no more bullets came.

* * *

His cell was ruined, but Aya managed to find a pay phone down the road. Fishing for change in his pocket, he dialed a number that was far too familiar.

* * *

It had been too long, she decided wistfully, taking a moment to observe the young man sitting at one of the diner's corner booths.

Whatever trouble there might have been, the young man appeared unruffled. There wasn't so much as a spot of dust on his expensive-looking suit. His hair had grown out and was pulled back in a tight, strict braid.

"Aya."

He rose, eyes still the icy jewels she remembered.

"Manx."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Sit down."

She did as told without really thinking about it. Aya was still a leader, even if Weiss had chosen to disband.

"What is it?" she asked, strangely intimidated by that steady, angry glare.

"I want to know why I was attacked tonight."

* * *

Yohji was asleep when he heard the door open, and he only woke up enough to watch his lover enter the apartment.

"Don't yell at me for breaking in," he mumbled, snuggling deeper into the couch pillow. "Or at least wait and do it tomorrow."

"I'm not going to yell." Aya sighed quietly.

That woke Yohji up more than yelling would have.

"What's wrong, bunny thong?" he asked, sitting up.

Only Yohji could sit in rumpled clothes, half asleep, hair an utter wreck, and still look so achingly beautiful that Aya had to fight the impulse to weep.

Dropping his keys, Aya closed the door and walked into the apartment. He dropped down next to his lover on the sofa and immediately buried his face against the man's warm, strong chest.

"Aya? Love?"

How _could_ he sound so concerned?

How could Aya ever deserve it?

"Aya?"

Yohji gently pulled away, expression filled with worry as he brushed a stray strand of hair out of his lover's eyes.

Looking into the concerned, almost frightened eyes of the man who loved him, Aya could think of nothing but the words Manx had spoken to him mere hours ago.

Krittiker had had a spy in their ranks – a spy who had learned of plans to reform Weiss and had sold the information to Esset.

This had been discovered only mere moments, by Manx's calculations, before Aya had been attacked. There hadn't been time to warn him.

"Yours was the only name they have, we think." Manx had told him, pale. "We were hoping we had found the traitor before any of you could be hurt, but I guess we were too late."

"But why risk an attack so soon?" Aya had demanded. "That agent, Manx…he was so clumsy. A joke."

"The next one won't be, I'm sure."

"What's going on?"

She had shrugged, just as worried as he was.

"Weiss held the record for highest success rate – why wouldn't they want to make sure it can never reform?"

"But they only have one name?" he pressed, wanting to make certain that his teammates – and one teammate in particular – were safe.

Manx grimaced.

"Apparently, he was holding out for more money…but Aya, this is _serious_. Krittiker needs Weiss more than ever now."

"What makes you so sure?"

"They have to be up to something pretty big to risk trying to take you out so soon." Manx's eyes had darkened, and she reached across the table for him. Aya drew his hands back before she could touch him. "Just think about it, all right, Aya? I know you don't have your sister's bills to worry about anymore, but it's still good money."

He had risen and walked away without a word.

"Aya? Love, what's wrong?"

Instantly, the small man was back in the present. Back in the familiar, comforting warmth of Yohji's wonderful, strong arms.

He drew back to look into the other man's eyes, saw the love and worry there, and knew he could never tell his lover about what had happened.

Yohji didn't deserve to have his peace and happiness ripped away so violently. Aya would handle the burden all by himself, so that Yohji's eyes could remain clear of the shades of the past.

"Aya?"

"Just hold onto me, Yohji," he requested at last.

* * *

Aya was on his way home from the grocery store when the second attack came. He had been almost to his car when a man had come running at him – the point being, of course, to make whatever happened look like the result of a mugging, rather than a planned hit.

Either Esset was underestimating him, or they hadn't had time to hire a more skilled assassin.

Aya disposed of his attacker neatly, leaving the body behind a dumpster. He drove home fighting not to think about the blood that stained his hands. He had strangled the man, and no blood had been spilled, but he still imagined he could see it.

This could not affect him, he told himself sternly. He _couldn't_ let it affect him, or else Yohji would notice.

He wanted to protect Yohji from this.

Resolve strengthened, Aya took a deep breath and entered his apartment.

"Yo! Welcome home, bunny thong!"

The cheerful greeting was nearly enough to undo him, yet he managed to summon his "Yohji glare" without too much effort.

"Kudoh," he greeted without warmth.

"Aw, c'mon. You can't be mad at me for breaking in!" Yohji stooped to kiss him, reaching to tug on the low tail Aya had pulled his hair into. "I get lonely. I miss you."

"But I'm not here when you break in," he pointed out. "So what'sthe point?"

"All your stuff is here – and it smells like you."

"Now I smell?"

"You know what I mean." Another tug on the ponytail – Yohji didn't like it when Aya pulled his hair back. "Besides, if I'm here, then I get to see you the moment you come home."

"What are you – my puppy?"

"Only if that's what turns you on, babe."

"How do you know I don't go to _your_ apartment first?"

"You don't, though." Yohji argued. He didn't, however, sound entirely convinced.

Aya sighed.

"Aren't you going to help me with the groceries?" he asked at last.

"Are there more in the car?"

Aya nodded.

"Will you give me a prize if I help?"

Another nod, this one slightly reluctant.

Excited, Yohji hurried from the apartment. Aya stared after him for a long moment before sighing and heading to the kitchen to put away the groceries. When Yohji returned with the rest of the bags, he helped him – the two of them working together in a comfortable, companionable silence.

For the most part.

"Aya? What's this, love?"

He glanced up to see Yohji with the small plastic garbage can he had bought.

"That goes in the bedroom."

"The…huh?"

Aya fished around in the bags and found another package. Hiding a sudden, unexpected flash of amusement, he tossed it to his lover.

"Wet naps?" the blonde asked.

"They go in the bedside table."

"Why?"

"Don't be an idiot, Yohji. I refuse to keep waking up to find wet washcloths molding on the floor – this seemed to be an easy alternative."

Yohji stared at him a moment more before comprehension finally dawned. A familiar, confident smirk spreading across his face, he placed both items down and hurried across the room.

Aya found himself suddenly lifted into the air and placed atop the countertop, a hungry pair of lips covering his own.

"Can we test it out?" Yohji asked breathlessly, drawing back.

"Later," Aya promised, "Tonight."

Yohji stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

"_Please_, bunny thong? You did promise I could have a prize if I was a good boy."

"Why is my ass always on the top of your list?"

"Aya. Love. Have you _seen_ your ass? It's delectable." Yohji nuzzled his neck, quickly finding the exact spot of sensitivity to make the younger man shiver and melt. "Pretty please, bunny thong?"

Aya closed his eyes, fighting to let Yohji's light and cheer fill him, pushing back the memories of what had happened in the parking lot – of the knowledge that no matter how often he washed his hands, he would never be free of the stain of blood.

"Out, damned spot." he whispered.

Yohji drew back, a hopeful smile on his face.

"You say something, lover?"

"Am I really the prize you want, Yohji?" Aya asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You can have me any time. Wouldn't you rather have something more special?"

"You _are_ special, Aya. Nothing could ever matter more to me."

* * *

Yohji had (mostly) only been teasing when pleading for his prize. If Aya wasn't in the mood, he certainly wasn't going to _make_ him do anything. He loved him.

Sometimes it was hard to tell though when Aya really wasn't feeling like "playing," and when he was only being difficult in order to tease Yohji. Sometimes the man was just too hard to read – even for the man who knew him best.

Now was one of those times.

The mood had been light enough in the kitchen that Aya very well could have been teasing…but then again, Aya had been different lately.

True, the man was always rather quiet – but there were qualifiers for that silence. He could go hours without saying a word to Yohji, but the blonde would have no doubt that his lover was happy and at peace because of the tiny smile on those lips, the gentle look in his eyes, the light, small touches he would bestow on him without reason.

Lately, Aya had been the kind of quiet that meant he was deep in thought. Something was distracting him enough that Yohji could actually startle him if he came too quickly into the room.

Not only was something on his mind, but something – either the same thing that caused his distraction or something utterly unrelated – had him worried. Had Aya been anyone else, Yohji might have described him as "clingy."

Too often of late Aya seemed to want nothing more than to be held. Yohji certainly didn't mind obliging him, but between the distraction, the clinginess, and Aya's recent emotional breakdown, Yohji was becoming concerned for his small love.

They had fooled around a little in the kitchen, but Yohji was reluctant to do too much when he wasn't sure whether of not Aya really wanted to. Eventually, he convinced him to move into the living room, where they turned on some music and cuddled up together on the couch.

Aya was so quiet, and he snuggled so very closely to Yohji's side, that the blonde knew immediately that he had made the right decision.

"Do the dead haunt you, Yohji?" Aya asked when he softly asked him if everything was all right.

"…used to."

"How did you get rid of them?"

"Stopped listening."

"Mm."

Silence passed. Yohji began to slowly run his fingertips up and down Aya's arm.

"Is that's what's been bothering you, bunny thong?" he asked at last, afraid to voice the words but unable to stop himself.

Aya grew very still in his arms, then relaxed.

"No," he answered, and Yohji knew he was telling the truth. "Not entirely."

"You don't want to tell me what it is though, right?"

"Right."

Yohji couldn't stop a small sigh, letting his head rest against Aya's.

"I love you. I don't like it when you torture yourself."

"It will all be over soon."

Cryptic words, but that was Aya's way. Morbid thoughts were normal for the man and, in fact, he probably didn't even see the potential darkness lurking behind his own words.

"Yohji?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want your surprise now?"

"I thought we already did that."

"Stupid."

Throwing off the blanket, Aya rose.

"Wait here."

Yohji nodded, closing his eyes as Aya left.

His chest ached, his throat was suddenly raw with unexplored emotion. He was terrified for Aya – frightened that the man would give himself deep mental wounds by ripping open his old ones while brooding. Yohji would help him pick up the pieces, of course, but he would much prefer it if his lover were never hurt at all.

Aya returned after a few moments, a small box held in his hands.

"I wanted to save this for sometime special," the pale man said quietly, sitting beside him once more. He wouldn't meet Yohji's eyes. "I'm not very good at this kind of thing though…I probably wouldn't realize the moment was right until it had already passed, anyway."

He hesitated a moment more, then placed the box atop Yohji's knee.

Yohji only stared at it, afraid of how serious his lover was being.

"Should I have wrapped it?" Aya asked at last.

"No, no…" Yohji lifted the lid off the box, and stared dumbly down at the small key inside.

"So you'll stop breaking in." Aya informed him quietly.

Yohji looked at him, and realized with awe that the smaller man was in love with him. Aya couldn't say it yet – he probably didn't even know it yet, but he was in love with Yohji.

"Do you like it?"

Unable to answer, he kissed him quickly, messily. Deeply enough to take his breath away.

"Aya?" he asked gently. "Love?"

"What?" the redhead breathed, clearly startled.

"You love me."

"Okay…"

"You know what else?"

"What?"

Yohji leapt up and went to where he had hung his key ring so that he could add the new key to it. He shot Aya a wild grin as he fiddled with it.

"You aren't ever getting this back," he informed him. "Not ever."

Aya blinked at him a moment then, suddenly, smiled.

It was the most beautiful thing Yohji had ever seen.

* * *

To Be Continued

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**CaT70** - People can surprise you, I'll say that. So here's the new chapter you asked for. Next one should be out on Tuesday...I hope.

**Moon without a Sun** - It's not that Ken was really having a problem, but just that he didn't really want to get involved in the dispute between his friends. He probably never would have chosen a side if not for Miyo-chan.

**Kirai** - thankies!


	20. Tell Me You Love Me

Ah the countdown! Only one chapter left after this one - look for it Tursday, my dears. I considered combining them for length, but they feel a little rushed to me _without_ being combined. Anyway, I'm sorry if they feel too rushed and I'm sorry if ya'll don't like them. I, personally, am happy with them. There are a few things I would change if I could, but it's too late now. If you find yourself unsatisfied, just remember that the story isn't over. There is a sequel coming. I promise.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Yohji, but it looks like I'm going to be a little late getting home." Aya apologized, holding the telephone between his shoulder and ear as he typed on his computer. "Are you starving?"

"Restaurant will still be there when you get off. Hey,"

"What?"

"How did you know to call your place?"

"You're always at my place," the redhead answered with a shrug. "You're really quite pathetic, actually."

Yohji gave a quiet laugh, voice strangley intimate. "I want to live with you."

Aya rolled his eyes, smiling slightly to himself. Ever since Aya had given him the key to his apartment Yohji had begun to gently press for a change in their living arrangements. He was over so often as it was that he might as well already be living there, but Aya was holding off giving him permission until their anniversary in a week.

A month since they became lovers.

It was strange to think about.

But the thought filled him with warmth and happiness.

"Why don't I come pick you up?" Yohji asked when Aya neglected to say anything.

"My car's here. I shouldn't be too much longer; I'm just trying to finalize the plans for Narumoto's press conference tomorrow."

"Kid's getting really popular, huh?"

"He has talent."

"You're really good at your job."

"You don't have to suck up, Yohji. I'm going to sleep with you, anyway."

"I could make a really dirty comment right now."

"Save it for when you can actually act on it."

"Sounds like a plan to me, bunny thong."

Despite himself, Aya smiled.

"Fine," he agreed, filled with fondness for his vivacious lover. "I'll see you soon."

"I love you, bunny thong."

"Hn. I…yeah."

Yohji's laughter filled the line.

"I know," the blonde sing-songed. "You love me, too. You looooooove me."

"Goodbye, Yohji."

"Bye, bunny th - !"

Aya hung up before the man could finish the familiar nickname. The redhead couldn't help but to smile quietly to himself, filled with warmth and light. Yohji made him impossibly happy. Happy enough to almost forget the phone call he had received from Manx early that morning. She had called to tell him she would have some agents trailing him for a while to protect him from Esset operatives.

Aya blinked blurring eyes at his computer and decided that he needed a break. The vending machine was just down the hall.

He was bending to take his soda out of the machine when he felt eyes on him.

He rose and turned to find Morita standing in the doorway to the break room.

"Pulling a late one?" the large man asked.

Aya narrowed his eyes into a glare, backing up against the machine.

"Apparently," he answered warily.

Morita smiled, beady eyes scanning the room. "Your little lover not here?"

"He's coming to pick me up," he lied. "He'll be here nay moment."

"You two are really hot and heavy, aren't you?" the squat man asked. "I bet you put on a good show. So do you fuck him, or is it the other way around? I bet you like it, don't you?"

"This is entirely inappropriate, and certainly none of your business."

Morita chuckled.

"That's it, isn't it? You like having him crammed inside you. You're a real wildcat, aren't you? Guys like you are always freaks."

"You can't speak this way to me."

"Oh, you won't tell anyone," the man decided, entering the room and closing the door after himself.

Aya remained still as he approached, though he greatly increased the intensity of his glare.

"Touch me and you'll loose that hand."

"Oh," the man decided, "Is _that_ the game we're playing? I'll tell you something, Fujimiya, I've been waiting for this since the day we met. The minute I saw you I knew that you and I could have lots of…_fun_…together."

He reached for him.

Aya punched him, a hard right hook, and slid past quickly.

Blood seemed to be pouring from Morita's nose.

"_Bitch!_" the man snarled, lunging for him.

Aya grabbed his arm and twisted, bringing his other hand down and striking. He heard bone crack before Morita began to scream.

Releasing him, Aya took off running.

* * *

"You seen my hairbrush, bunny thong?"

"Hn."

The blonde man glanced at his lover, frowning. The pale man sat in a chair by the window, gazing outside at the pouring rain, a book laying forgotten in his lap.

"Aya?"

He looked up, blinking, and managed to summon a halfhearted glare.

"Why would your brush be here? You don't live here."

Yohji moved, kneeling on the floor at Aya's feet. He took the smaller man's pale, cool hands in his own, kissing them softly.

"What's wrong, bunny thong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing I can tell you."

"Aya?"

The man blinked rapidly, turning his face away.

"I promised myself I wouldn't burden you with this."

"Nothing you could ever do would be a burden to me, love."

"Hn."

"Aya, this is a partnership." Yohji scolded gently. "You have to tell me things."

"Morita was bothering me again."

Fury washed over Yohji like a bucket of ice water.

"When?" he demanded.

"Last week. I became violent with him when he wouldn't leave me alone."

"Good."

"Yohji…no one's seen him since."

"Good."

"I'm serious, Yohji," he whispered.

"I am, too."

Aya fell silent, and Yohji let him, running his thumb gently back and forth across the back of his lover's hand. The rain outside was beating heavily against the window pane, as if trying to break its way in.

Yohji begun to hum softly under his breath, voice rough from his years as a smoker, yet unbelievably comforting.

Aya leaned forward to lay his head against his lover's shoulder.

"That's nice," he murmured quietly, closing his eyes as Yohji's hands began to pull softly though his hair. "I like it. What is it?"

"An American song I heard once. The lyrics made me think of you."

"Mm?"

"'There's some things that'll never change – like you and me and the sound of rain.'"

Aya relaxed against him.

"You're so mushy sometimes."

"Mushy?" Yohji grinned, sliding Aya's shirt up so that he could run his fingers up and down his bare back. "That's a word I never dreamed would find its way into your vocabulary."

"I like it."

"Mush?"

"I always thought it would annoy me, but all it really does is make me happy. Makes me feel…warm."

"Good."

Aya drew back, smile fragile.

"Can we go to the bedroom?" the redhead asked quietly. "I don't want to do anything today but be with you."

Yohji would have grinned, but he sensed the seriousness of the situation.

Instead he only smiled.

"Anything you want, Aya."

* * *

"Tell me you love me."

Yohji opened his eyes to find the bright violet gaze of his lover focused intently on him. The blonde smiled softly, reaching up to tug on a strand of crimson hair.

"I love you." he answered.

Aya nodded and took a deep breath.

"I love you, too."

Yohji stared at him, but Aya's gaze was steady.

"What was that?" he whispered.

Aya closed his eyes, burying his face against his lover's neck.

"I'm in love with you, Yohji."

"Oh, _Aya_…" Yohji wrapped his arms tightly around his small lover, aching to hold him as close as possible. "It's about damn time."

Aya drew back, bright eyes glaring down at him. Yohji laughed as the smaller man punched him in the ribs.

"I bare my heart to you and all you can say is 'it's about damn time'?" he demanded coldly.

Yohji pulled Aya until the smaller man was more fully atop him. Aya squirmed until Yohji let him sit up, and positioned himself more securely atop his lover's hips. In the exchange, the sheets had gotten trapped between them, but Yohji found himself very much enjoying the arrangement, nevertheless.

Testing the waters, Yohji took a firm hold on his lover's hips and lifted his own.

Aya punched him again.

"Don't try to distract me."

"I wasn't - !" Aya was still glaring at him. Yohji realized he might have offended him. With a sigh and a smile, Yohji coaxed Aya to lie against his chest. "Bunny thong, I'm sorry. Let's try this again, okay?"

"I love you," the smaller man glared.

"Thanks."

Aya drew back.

"You're punishing me, aren't you?"

"Aya!"

"Yohji!"

"Maybe a little," Yohji grinned, splaying his fingers against his lover's slim hips. "Aya, I'm teasing."

"I tell you that I love you, and you tease me."

"Are you pouting?"

"I _don't_ pout."

"Aya, you mean everything to me. You're my entire life. Nothing matters more to me – _nothing_."

"Why couldn't you have just said that in the first place?"

"I'm sorry. You caught me off guard, love. I'm thrilled and honored and…Aya, you make me feel like life is a beautiful place. Like I've never suffered and will never suffer again because nothing and no one else exists."

"Don't overdo it, now."

"I'm being completely honest."

Aya laughed, leaning back down to bury his face against Yohji's chest.

"How can you do this to me?" he demanded, continuing to smile.

Yohji closed his arms tightly around his lover, holding him close.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I want to live with you, Yohji," he whispered. "I want you to live with me."

"Aya…" he breathed.

"I was going to wait until our anniversary tomorrow to ask you, but…"

"How can you be so perfect?"

The alarm went off, signaling that it was time to get up for work. Aya smiled down at Yohji – a real, full smile.

"Want to take a shower?"

* * *

A peace had settled over Aya – a calm and happiness that nothing could touch, not even the threat of assassination. Everything would be all right. It had to be, because life was finally going well. He was loved. More importantly, he was _in_ love.

"Fujimiya-san, Nakemura wants to see you in his office."

Aya smiled at his secretary, and even gave a laugh as she blushed.

"Thank you; tell him I'll be right there."

He dropped his things off in his office before heading to answer his boss's summons.

Nakemura was behind his desk, an intimidating figure.

Aya smiled.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Close the door and sit down."

Aya did as told, fighting the urge to squirm under the man's gaze.

"Satoshi Morita is dead." Nakemura informed him without preamble.

* * *

To Be Concluded next chapter

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Kirai** - I'm so glad!

**CaT70** - Twice a week isn't fast enough? LOL.

That's it for this chapter. See you Thursday.


	21. The End

Aya's world swam. He felt hot and cold and dizzy all at once. He was nauseated.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

Nakemura's eyes were cold and completely without pity.

"Morita is dead, Fujimiya," he repeated, using the same tone he would have used if he had been speaking about the weather. "What's more, security cameras show that you were the last one to speak to him in this office."

"I…he attacked me, and I responded." Aya forced himself to meet the man's eyes, knowing his glare was fierce. "I hurt him, but I didn't kill him. I have the right to defend myself."

"Your secretary reported witnessing him harassing you."

"But I wouldn't kill him over it." _UnlessI had to_.

"She also reported overhearing your boyfriend threaten Morita's life."

"Yohji wouldn't - !"

"Why wouldn't he? Isn't it in an assassin's very nature to kill?"

Aya suddenly found it very difficult to breathe.

"_What?"_

"In two days, Morita's body will be discovered by authorities in a shallow grave in the park near your apartment building." Nakamura informed him evenly. "They will find him strangled to death, and on him they will quickly discover long strands of wavy, blonde hair."

From his desk he drew a hair brush that Aya recognized as belonging to Yohji.

"Where did you get that?" Aya rasped. "You…you _broke_ into my place - ?"

"This can all go away, Fujimiya."

"_Why_?"

"Krittiker needs an operative of your expertise in Germany."

"_Krittiker_?"

"Agree to go, under the guise of an international tour for Narumoto, and your lover is safe."

"You can't - !"

"There is nothing beyond Krittiker's reach, Fujimiya." Something moved behind Nakemura's eyes. Something dark and dangerous. "You should have realized that before it came to this. Your plane leaves tomorrow. Be there, or suffer the consequences. Tell no one."

"Tomorrow? But, that's…"

"You'll be one the plane, Fujimiya. Regardless."

* * *

"That you, bunny thong?" Yohji poked his head out of the kitchen, grinning at the sight of his lover coming through the door to the apartment. He felt his grin slip a little at how pale and tired the man looked, how bowed and broken. "You all right?"

Aya hung up his keys and pulled off his jacket, not answering. Concern growing, Yohji went to him.

"Aya?"

The small man moved, coming easily into his arms.

"Aya…you're shivering!"

"Make love to me, Yohji," he whispered. "Please. Just…_please_."

His voice broke, his shivering became more violent.

"Please!" he whispered again, hands balling into fists in Yohji's shirt.

Yohji drew back, a small knot of unease forming in his gut.

"What is it, Aya?"

The man pressed forward, trapping Yohji's lips in a sudden kiss.

"I love you," he whispered with sudden fierceness, wrapping his arms tightly around the taller man. "Please believe that. You mean…_everything_ to me, Yohji."

"Aya, won't you tell me what's wrong, love?"

"I _can't_." his voice broke again and Yohji felt tears against his neck. "I just can't."

"All right."

"No matter what, I love you."

"Aya…"

"Make love to me, please."

They remained where they were, holding each other.

"No." Yohji said at last.

Aya drew back with frightened, betrayed eyes.

"Why not?"

Yohji gave a gentle smile, reaching out to tuck long strands of hair behind Aya's ear.

"I never technically won that old bet of ours," the blonde drawled. "You kind of just…gave up."

"Yohji?"

Nuzzling closer, Yohji tightened his arms around his small lover.

"You feel like trying something a little different tonight, bunny thong?"

"I wouldn't even know how."

"Sure you would. I trust you." Yohji drew back, smiling down at him. "What do you say? Want to be in charge tonight?"

Aya swallowed hard, looking away.

"Not tonight," he said quietly. "Tonight I want to wrap myself around you. I want to feel you with me…I want you to make love to me."

"All right, love." Yohji leaned forward for another soft kiss, tugging on Aya's tie. "Just remember that it's always an option."

"No more talk, Yohji, please. Just be with me." Aya buried his face against Yohji's chest, clinging to him in desperation. "Please, Yohji. Please. Just love me, Yohji. _Please_."

Yohji kissed him gently, shushing him. "All right, baby. All right."

Yohji lifted him up into his arms, and Aya clutched at him, body trembling violently. There were tears in his eyes as Yohji laid him on the bed.

* * *

Yohji was so gentle, so careful with him. His hands on his body were nearly reverent, his hungry lips bringing more comfort than Aya had dared hope for.

His eyes, those brilliant emerald orbs, shone with an inner light – passion and love and need. His body gleamed golden in the moonlight as it moved above him in that ancient, throbbing rythem, all tight muscles and sharp angles.

Aya closed his eyes and threw his head back, willing each moment, each touch, to last forever. Eyes closed, he sought to memorize every last inch of his lover's body, to remember the feel and taste and look of his skin for the rest of his days.

"I love you…so much." Yohji whispered against his skin. "No matter what happens. You hear me, Aya?"

"Yohji…"

"I'll love you forever, Aya."

"I love you," he whispered back.

The moonlight their only companion, they reached their height of passion as one, crashing down together into a satiated exhaustion.

Still whispering words of endearment, Yohji kissed his sweat-soaked brow and gathered him close against his body, holding him in arms that had never denied him against a strong chest that had somehow become his shelter.

Aya waited until he was certain his lover had fallen asleep before he allowed the tears to come.

* * *

Yohji was going at least twenty miles above the speed limit, but he didn't care. A cold fear was holding his heart in a vise-like grip.

He hadn't thought anything about it when he had woken to find himself alone. Aya often rose before him.

He usually didn't leave without saying goodbye to Yohji first; however, they'd had a long night and Yohji had slept even later than usual.

The entire day had passed, though, and Yohji hadn't heard from Aya once all day.

There were some days when his lover was so busy with work that he forgot to call though, and Yohji had learned that the man didn't appreciate being bothered when he was strapped for time.

The two had agreed to meet at a restaurant at seven to celebrate their anniversary. Yohji still had been okay when Aya had been a few moments late.

But when an hour passed without word from his lover, terror began to slowly overtake his limbs. He had been about to leave when his cell phone rang.

"Aya? Aya, where are you, babe?" he'd asked, fighting to keep the worry from his voice.

Several moments passed in which there was silence on the line. Still, Yohji had known that it was Aya with a cold certainty that he could neither explain nor deny.

"I'm sorry, Yohji." Aya's voice said at last.

Then the line had gone dead.

Reaching the apartment complex at last, Yohji parked crooked and jumped from the car, not even bothering to close the door as he dashed into the building.

Deciding the elevator would take too long, he sprinted up the stairs.

His hands shook too much for him to get the keys into the lock, so he ended up kicking in the door and rushing inside.

The apartment seemed completely empty.

"Aya?"

Sliding into the empty bedroom, he ripped open the closet door and stared.

Empty, but for the few articles of clothing that belonged to Yohji.

He was shaking, his eyes burning.

Aya kept few keepsakes, but now the blonde saw that the few the man had kept were gone.

Like a zombie he stumbled from the bedroom.

Only then did he see the vase of striped carnations sitting on the end table.

Broken, Yohji fell to his knees.

* * *

Fin.

All right, before you start yelling at me and/or threatening me with death, remember that there is a sequel coming. Also, I don't have a lot of experience writing endings. I usually never finish anything. So…be glad that the muse is still pumping out the ideas.

Anyway, I have so many hopes. I hope it wasn't too short. I hope it made sense. I hope it wasn't too quick.

A world of thanks to everyone who has read this, and stuck with me the entire time. Be sure to look for the sequel, Inferno.

Striped carnations - "sorry, I can't be with you" or "I wish I could be with you"

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Kirai** - Yohji's been waiting, too.

**glinwulf** - perceptive, aren't we? (grins)

**morningglory** - hope you enjoyed

**CaT70** - Still love me? No, we aren't finished with Bob yet.

Thanks so much everyone, for all the love and support. I hope to see you in the sequel.


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